The Gathering Room

Retreat

2007-06-15T12:38:00.000-05:00

I'm off to Pacem In Terris today! I am very much looking forward to being in the woods, in the silence. And I don't care one bit that the hermitages do not have air conditioning!

I wonder what will be unearthed?

friends share

2007-06-03T13:59:00.000-05:00

Tally (our 18 month old) and Annie (our dog) are good friends.

Tally shares the things she finds in drawers and cupboards and Annie thanks her by chewing them up.

Annie shares her water bowl with Tally. Tally enjoys pouring it on the floor and "swimming" in it.

Tally enjoys her lunch, but she's not selfish. Oh no, she loves to chuck food over the edge of her tray and watch the dog gobble it up. After the mommy has had enough of that she takes the tray away. But before she comes back with a washcloth Annie helps out by washing Tally's hands and face with her tongue. Tally laughs and laughs.

Such good friends.

Mr. Rogers

2007-06-02T11:39:00.000-05:00

You make each day a special day. You know how, by just your being you. There is only one person in the whole world exactly like you, and people can like you just the way you are. ~Fred Rogers

Mr. Rogers you're my hero!

tally chew

2007-06-01T11:35:00.000-05:00

Sometimes when Tally is eating she closes her eyes and chews. She opens them to see the new piece to her mouth but then quickly closes them again and chews. I wonder what that's about?

Maybe food tastes better with your eyes closed?

Memorial

2007-05-31T09:20:00.000-05:00

This week we remembered those who have died. My Dad died last August. I remembered Dad on Saturday and Sunday when we planted our vegetable garden. My folks were big time gardeners. We had HUGE vegetable gardens when I was growing up. And now I know why.

This is only our second year of growing food. Our garden is probably 6' x 12'. We planted sweet corn, potatoes, peas, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes and yellow bell peppers. How fun! But really our garden will hardly sustain us or provide all the corn, potatoes, peas, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes or peppers we will consume in the next year. I'm glad for the experience it gives us all. Growing food awakens us to our connection to the earth - that is very good.

I remember, Dad, your love of growing things. And I thank you for it.

new times call for a new look

2007-05-31T09:18:00.000-05:00

and since I'm not in the mood for a haircut, how 'bout this?

Release

2007-05-21T16:04:00.000-05:00

Thank you for checking back to see if I have once again posted.

Whatever Thing by Christena Graves

Whatever thing that I have carried in this place
That will keep me from you, I will lay it at your feet
Whatever burden I have carried for so long
That will keep me from seeing you, I will lay it down right now

All of the things that are cluttering my mind
I will push them far from here, And listen for your voice
All of the pain that I am carrying inside, I will hand it to you
You will take it, set me free, I will fly

I need to hear you speak to me, And I want to feel you in this place
You long to take me in your arms of love,
So take me in your arms of love

Peter and I have decided that May 27th will be our last Sunday at Abbey Way Covenant Church. We did not release that information to the church until this morning so yesterday was a day of sadness and tension for me.

During our worship we sang the above song. I found myself reading it again many times. It became a prayer of release for myself and for Abbey Way.

I am still drawn with the deep stuff of my heart toward Benedictine values and practices. I long to build relational, earthy, cooperative, new-monastic community! Aaargh! Following one's heart is such a risky business!

God with us

2007-01-03T14:52:00.000-06:00

Matthew 10: 40-42

We are intimately linked in this harvest work. Anyone who accepts what you do, accepts me, the One who sent you. Anyone who accepts what I do accepts my Father who sent me. Accepting a messenger of God is as good as being God's messenger. Accepting someone's help is as good as giving someone help. This is a large work I've called you into, but don't be overwhelmed by it. It's best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won't lose out on a thing.
(bold added by me)

These verses speak to my tense, busy places. They speak to my confusion and despair. My heart says, "Whew!" OK, take a breath. Give up trying to pack it all into one day. Again, breath. Look up. We are partnering with God.

And I love that these verses are followed so closely by Matthew 11: 28-30:

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover you life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me -- watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.

I very much want to learn to live freely and lightly. I deeply need rest. Real rest. I wonder what must be laid down. What is essential? What is unnecessary, or unhelpful, or even harmful? It is alarmingly easy for me to neglect the "getting away with God" thing. Easy to let life's demands drain me dry.

I think we do the same thing corporately. We need regular, corporate getting-away-with-God times. New Years Eve at Abbey Way we gave the kids a movie/pizza/popcorn party downstairs. Upstairs the adults held silence together. We shared lectio divina. We shared communion. For me it was like sweet rain on parched earth. Silence helps me hear. Silence helps me see. Silence teaches where words cannot reach. In silence I notice our connectedness to God and each other. Silence refreshes and restores. Silence helps makes room for the other. Silence helps me to notice what is needed and to move toward it in the way that I can. In the words of Oliver Twist, "More please."

Noel

2006-12-24T10:28:00.000-06:00

excerpt from Phyllis Tickle's book What the Land Already Knows.

It was 1980 and two Sundays before Christmas--the Virgin's Sunday, the Sunday of the pink candle that was waiting downstairs in the Advent wreath for me to come and light it. Earnest pleas were already coming up the stairwell. "Come on, Mama. Please come on and light it." What the voices did not understand--what I myself had not understood until only a few moments before and could not for the life of me have explained to them that morning--was that every Advent, by lighting Mary's candle, I also light that quiet place where my femaleness enters Christmas.

In the weak December light of that cold morning, our double bed sat in front of the bedroom's big windows, a disheaveled wad of blankets and quilts, a sea of wrinkles still warm from our bodies. As always, I began by removing the pillows to fluff them and pulling the bottom sheet taut again. I had folded back the covers to air, my hands moving in and out of the night's warmth and a life's memories. For twenty-five years we had slept there. We had conceived nine children on that bed and had brought seven of them to birth. Here I had always rested afterwards. And here they continued to join us in the morning, cold bare feet and knobby little knees hammering, innocent as Oedipus, against our mystery.

A shuttle of clouds blew over the lemony sun outside, and the gray pattern swam across the exposed sheets, moved up the bedroom wall, and disappeared on the ceiling. The wind was too cold that day, and I drew the drapes shut, blocking both the light and the cold for a while longer.

So it began again, the dying of our year. The long nights I yearned toward; the stripped trees and tan grasses; the graying of the sun. I tied a red ribbon around the lamp on the dresser, knowing that in a little while one of the children would bring a pinecone or a holly branch in from the field and slip it through the ribbon without my asking.

It was not quite two full weeks to the holy night; the children were waiting, and I had much to do. It was then that I first realized that I wanted to--in fact, had to-- pully the covers back up and smooth the spread before I could light the candle to which their voices were calling me. It was then that I at last perceived the pattern within my Christmas self. Always here, in this
place of beginnings, was my center, the order of my Advent days. This, first, must be right. A pillow or two set just so and then, on top of those, the special pillow that says Noel: "Birth". All over the world this fortnight people would wish each other birth; I would do it here.

***

And to you, my dear blog friends, I wish you birth! Noel!

Christmas Meme?

2006-12-18T12:02:00.000-06:00

1. Egg nog or Hot Chocolate?
Both! Especially if they are homemade.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
strange question. Traditionally speaking I thought Santa was in the business of stuffing stockings. anyway, wouldn't he have elves to help him with the wrapping?

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
This year our tree has white lights and there are no lights outside (last year there were colored lights outside but Pete didn't want to fuss with them this year - I don't blame him.)

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No.

5. When do you put your decorations up?
Usually the weekend after Thanksgiving but this year it was a week later.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Hmmm. tough one. I'm going to cheat and name two: lefse and swedish meatballs

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child.
Seeing our Christmas tree with it's large bulb lights.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I don't know. I had older siblings - they spilled the beans while I was young.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas eve?
Pete's family opens all of their gifts on Christmas eve. Pete and I open gifts with our kids on Christmas morn.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
In years past we have had two trees: one with all the misc. collected ornaments and multicolored lights, and one with a theme. This year we only have the themed tree which is so pretty. It has white lights and old fashioned glass ornaments in hot pink, green and aqua. It has a glass beaded garland, glittered pine cones, mica dusted nuts and sparkly birds.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas...

12. Can you ice skate?
nope.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
One year mom made Holly Hobbie dolls for myself and each of my sisters. She also made doll cradles with mattresses and blankets.

14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
Wonder and delight.

15. What is your favorite Holiday dessert?
Iced butter cookies. yummm!

16. What is your favorite Holiday tradition?
A simple meal of soup (oyster stew and a few others) and bread followed by gift opening on Christmas eve.

17. What tops your tree?
This year it's a sparkly peacock. ha!

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
it's a toss up.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
I'm with Jan on this one: Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel. I loved singing that at night in the Crown College chapel.

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
Ho hum.

tonya, erin, pearl, jaime? up for a doing your Christmas meme? (what's a meme?)

2006-12-18T11:36:00.000-06:00

Let us consider our present blessings!

Fezziwig to his guests
A Christmas Carol at the Guthrie
December 16, 2006

my roses

2006-11-20T12:05:00.000-06:00

I've put the roses to bed for the winter. I'm hoping they will grace me with their company again next summer. Till then I thought I would share with you a few photos I took of their pretty faces.
the first is Heritage, the second Charlotte, and the third Abraham Darby.

Happy Birthday Sweet Baby!

2006-11-17T21:13:00.000-06:00

Dear, Sweet Talia,
Seriously! Where did the year go? I knew it would fly by. I soaked up every moment I could, breathing you in, hoping to impress the sweetness upon my memory. I so enjoyed this busy and difficult year. One last chance at raising an infant (at least that's the plan!). You have been our delight. It doubles my pleasure to see your brother and sister enjoying you as much as your Dad and I do. You are a gift. Happy Birthday Baby Girl!

from this:

to this:

to this:

yummy!

(Oh! and take a look at the perfect posers at the apple orchard!)

lovely!

here tonight

2006-11-08T21:43:00.000-06:00

I came down here tonight to write a quick blog... but I can't think of what it was I wanted to say. Many times during a day I think, "Oh, that would be good to blog!" but then I forget. Perhaps I need to keep a little blog journal with me.

Anyway, I did get a chance to catch up with a number of my blog friends and that was lovely. I hope that you know you are loved and that I am sending you wishes for the sweetest nights sleep.

2006-10-26T08:45:00.000-05:00

God of justice, God of mercy, bless all those who are surprised with pain this day from suffering caused by their own weakness or that of others. Let what we suffer teach us to be merciful; let our sins teach us to forgive. This I ask through the intercession of Jesus and all who died forgiving those who oppressed them. Amen.

from The Divine Hours, pg.116

friday night

2006-10-07T21:29:00.000-05:00

new friends
dinner
prayer
apple rum dum (is that how you spell it?)
windy bonfire
a scary story
moonlight and shadows
GOOD Night!

Defensiveness

2006-10-05T09:45:00.000-05:00

"Nevertheless, I would advise you against defensiveness on principle. It precludes the best eventualities along with the worst. As the most basic level, it expresses a lack of faith. As I have said, the worst eventualities can have great value as experience. And often enough, when we think we are protecting ourselves, we are struggling against our rescuer. I know this, I have seen the truth of it with my own eyes, though I have not myself always managed to live by it, the Good Lord knows. I truly doubt I would know how to live by it for even a day, or an hour. That is a remarkable thing to consider."

--From Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

bold added by me.

I was feeling depressed the other day, sad about many things. I began to ask God into my grief. As I did so I said, "Here is my grief. It is your own." I'm not sure if those words were mine or if he gave them to me. Immediately I began to wonder about God and his grief. I remember asking him, "Are you grieved today?" And I began to wonder if I feel grief when he is feeling grief - if perhaps joy, sadness, hope, and grief are shared.
I know that God asks me to share my heart with him, in the gladness and in the sadness. But maybe he shares his heart with me as well. Perhaps what I feel isn't mine alone.
My grief was transformed with these thoughts. I felt beautiful in it. I know those words don't add up but they seem to describe it best.
I often fight my grief. Trying somehow to defend myself from it, to rise above, to defeat it. This quote speaks to that wasted effort. It helps me cease my striving. And it humbles me. I see how small my faith is. Yes, it is a remarkable thing to consider.

2006-10-05T09:38:00.000-05:00

"The rigorous demands of true friendship, the gift of oneself, one's time, one's preferences, the nakedness and honesty, are beyond the price many are willing to pay--those who have not yet experienced what is purchased by such a price. Anyone who has been graced with true friendship knows the cost and knows the worth."

--From A Place Apart by M. Basil Pennington

quote from book on loan

2006-09-05T11:06:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it.

from Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

The lowdown

2006-07-17T09:39:00.000-05:00

Roses
I am pleased to report that the roses are doing great. Six of seven have bloomed repeatedly, and continue to do so. The seventh is growing but is still quite small. Abraham Darby is my favorite. He full, lush, quartered and fragrant. Livy and Gunnar decided that he smells like raspberry lemonade. Charlotte is coy. Heritage is delicate. Glamis Castle is white and fluffy with a small pink center - it reminds me of a baby nipple. (weird but true). L.D. Braithwaite is a bit disappointing... but I'll wait and see if he grows on me.
It is delightful to have cut roses around the house. I share them with the neighbors too - that's fun.

Herman the Cat
Friday evening we took Herman in to be put to sleep. Very sad. Pete and I adopted Herman 13 years ago. We weren't yet married, the cat was really Pete's. I thought we should name him Sir Edmund Shakelton - we'd been watching a documentary on PBS. Pete decide to name him after me (my maiden name is Herrmann). Herman was a lovely cat, charcoal grey with yellow eyes. He was gentle with us, never scratching or biting. When we got married Herman had to share us with Asha - the cat I brought into the mix. They never did love each other much. Hermie liked to chase her down and rip out a hunk of fur. Bad kitty! Both of those cats loved to tip over containers of water whenever they could. Just forget about setting out a vase of flowers! But Herman in particular loved water. You had to watch him closely or he would sneak into the shower with you. Most of his life Herman was fat. But that past couple of years he got scary-skinny. Then he began to pull out his own fur (maybe he missed Asha). He hasn't been well. Friday morning I discovered that he'd peed in Talia's closet... and there went the camel's back. Time to say goodbye.
For the first time since 1992 I am without a cat. To tell the truth, I couldn't be happier. With two kids, a baby, a dog, a hamster and a fish, one less being to care for seems like a blessing. No more spilled milk, spilled water, tipped-over flowers. No more stepping into the laundry room and finding cat litter stuck to the bottom of my feet. No more cat puke in the hallway, bathroom, foyer, etc. No more chunks of fur on the steps right after I've vaccuumed. No more meowing at 5 am. No more stinky cat food. No more litter boxes to empty. Yes.

Cherries
We picked a pail of sour cherries off of mom and dad's tree before they moved. That pail has been sitting in the downstairs fridge for a couple of weeks. I decided I needed to take action before it all turned to compost fodder. As I washed and sorted the cherries I decided that pitting them all seemed like too much work. Sour cherries are quite a bit smaller than sweet cherries and pitting is a messy, long job. (But I was tempted because I so adore sour cherry pie!) So I put the cherries in a big pot and chopped at them with our industrial strength pastry blender. Then I cooked them on low for a bit to loosen the juice. I let them drain through a couple layers of cheese cloth for a few hours and then I collected the juice. This morning I boiled the juice, added sugar and boiled it all again for 5 minutes. I was aiming for sour cherry syrup. I think it will actually be closer to jelly. But it tastes like intense sour cherry candy - luscious!

Other than that life here is filled with the mundane activities that keep a family of 5 fed, clothed, clean, and loved. (Gunnar just came down from bath time with a dry head - I sent him back.) I hope you are well fed, clothed, clean and loved too.

midday prayer

2006-06-22T15:24:00.000-05:00

God of mercy,
this midday moment of rest
is your welcome gift.
Bless the work we have begun,
and make good its defects
and let us finish it in a way that pleases you.
Grant this through Christ our Lord.
The Liturgy of the Hours, Vol. III

sweet fragrance

2006-06-19T09:42:00.000-05:00

I am searching for a suitable analogy for what I experienced yesterday. Abbey Way gathered together yesterday morning as we usually do on Sunday morning. This time we met in our back yard under the maple trees. The air was fresh and cool. We were surrounded by green. It was lovely. But lovelier still was the sweet affection that was blooming among us. Affection. Much of the community was together on Saturday for the New Monastic Workshop. But a few of us were unable to be there... and we were missed. ...and they told us so.

Wikipedia says:
Affection: literally, a mental state resulting generally from an external influence. It is popularly used of a relation between persons amounting to more than goodwill or friendship.

That's lovely. We have committed ourselves to this "shared life" without even knowing the others joining us for the journey. Yet our common desire for God supports and enfold us. What rich soil we have to grow in! Only the first few flowers have bloomed but what a lovely fragrance they give.

new reads

2006-06-06T21:07:00.000-05:00

I just picked up three new books from the thrift store: Memoirs of a Geisha, Bridget Jones's Diary, and The Bondwoman's Narrative.

I am so excited to be reading something that is not specifically about spiritual/church/God nor dysfunctional families. Ah! It's like going on vacation!

So shall I turn

2006-05-04T13:28:00.000-05:00

You strengthen me more and more; you enfold and comfort me.
Psalm 71:21

I've been going through the Boundaries book for a year or so. Recently I've been reading Narcissistic Family.
This journey has been:
good
painful
horrible
beautiful
awakening
painful
enlightening
strengthening
loving
courageous
painful
hopeful

Certain days (today) I want to run away. I want to nap all day and see no one for eons. I want to escape.

I've been awakened. I have become aware. I am learning to be with myself. In so doing I feel pain. I desperately want to alleviate the pain, the anxiety. I look to the old ways - food, TV, spending, computer games - they do not do a very good job.

Yet, I feel that I want to congratulate myself for using food, TV, spending, games to numb myself, to cope. That was a resourceful thing to do. Those were the options that were available to me. Thing is, now I want to leave them - turn instead to other helpers. And more than that I want to get healing for the underlying issues. The old ways only worked to mask the pain that issued from the interior wound - they had no positive effect upon the wound itself.

What will heal me?

Open, Lord, my eyes that I may see.
Open, Lord, my ears that I may hear.
Open, Lord my heart and my mind that I may understand.
So shall I turn to you and be healed.
traditional prayer

The other new ones

2006-04-20T14:24:00.000-05:00

Here are the other English Roses I'm planting. They will all look this fantastic I'm sure!

Charlotte

2006-04-20T14:20:00.000-05:00

Glamis Castle

2006-04-20T14:19:00.001-05:00

L.D. Braithwaite

2006-04-20T14:19:00.000-05:00

Heritage

2006-04-20T14:17:00.000-05:00

I'm in love with Abraham Darby

2006-04-19T13:38:00.000-05:00

No, not the industrial revolutionary! The rose, silly! The rose pictured above is a David Austin English Rose named Abraham Darby. Lovely, no? Pete has agreed to help me dig up the landscape rocks and rip out the evergreen bushes. Then we will improve the soil. All to get ready for the arrival of the new rose bushes. I've been dreaming of doing this for 3 or 4 years. I've never grown roses so I really don't know what I'm doing. To make matters worse five out of the seven roses I've ordered are these English Roses which are technically hardy only to zone 5 (we are zone 4). I'm hoping they make it through our nasty winters. But when I have a chance to grow roses as beautiful as Abraham Darby... seriously, I couldn't resist.

reticence

2006-03-30T09:49:00.000-06:00

This blog has been a long time coming. And it will be long in the telling as well. To begin I need to go back my journal entry of August 27, 2005. Here are some exerpts:

O.K. Here's the deal. Finding Open Door was like finding safe haven. [I began coming to Church of the Open Door in the fall of 1990.] I had found a place that allowed me to enter many places that were previously off limits, not allowed. Freedom. I began to grow. Stinky, rotten spots began to get necessary attention and healing. As I grew I walked further down new paths of grace, healing , spirit life, kingdom life.
In the Fall of 2003 I went to a spiritual direction information meeting. I was drawn to it by the vague, mysterious words printed in the bulletin. That evening and that year of being in a spiritual direction group felt like coming home, or unexpectedly finding a hidden treasure. What a strange and beautiful thing hidden in this tiny corner of Open Door. It seemed to me like a new way of community, the way I'd been wanting.
In the Fall of 2004 I led a spiritual direction group and entered the class. My world, my God, my sight seemed to explode with newness, bigness, new understanding. It was all more than I could soak up, better than I'd ever dreamed. Hard, good, challenging, freeing. Look back. What a long we've come! The spiritual direction community has become dear to me, my family.
And now... what?
uncertainty - does Open Door still value spiritual direction? or was that something Jan held?
sadness - this is simply where my heart is, where my passion and hope lie.
I can't help feeling overwhelming love and gratitude to God and to Open Door for all this church has been to me for the past 15 years. I so hope and pray that God continues to move in and through them. May His Kindgom come. May we become the cooperative body of Christ. But as for me...?
I'm not sure. If spiritual direction, meditation, holy listening, new monastic remains as something important to Open Door... would I stay? I feel as if we've lost our shepherd. Jan spoke a different language than most, or all of us. Without her we would need other "foreign" tongues. We come from an unbalanced tradition that is heavy on head knowledge and the preached word. I feel desirous for entering into and experiencing new/different ways of knowing God. Who at Open Door can lead me in to that? And even if Open Door does continue a spiritual direction community I wonder about experiencing the new way/new thing with Jan. I love her shepherd/pastor heart. I want community in this new way. I want to enter in to transformation - 'cause this new thing will call it out.
But I will so miss this church that I love.
Grief.
[Then I read from Open Door's Kingdom Next publication]
"From 1993-2003 was a season of pioneering uncharted land for a permanent home."
When I first read that I said to myself, "No they weren't! We were church of the Open Sore. We were all crying in the bleachers." But it seemed you said, "Take another look."
"From 1993-2003 was a season of pioneering uncharted land for a permanent home."
I've been speaking of paths and land and finding home - I just always assumed it was at Open Door.
"We are now in a new season which began in 2003 as occupiers of our new home."
What!?! that's when I 'came home' to spiritual direction!
"Each season requires a leadership structure to meet the needs of the organization. While the former leadership structures suited us well, we've simply outgrown them. Corporately, our needs changed when we moved from renters to owners to occupiers."
Holy God, I know these words were written with different intentions but I see you in them, my own story in them, this new church in them.
"Now that we are occupiers, it's time to rebuild the church inside the building. We are in a time of transition and adjustment for where we are going in the long term."
"All of this speaks to where we believe God is calling us to go and who we believe God is calling us to be. We might not be there yet, but it's where we want to go, and it's where we think we are headed."

I knew right then that I had a 'yes' to Jan and Bob's new venture. I held these words and thoughts in my heart until Pete had his own time of discernment. Pete also came up with a 'yes' -- so since then we've been holding our hope, joy, grief, and tension.

But now, it's time to move. Our last time at Open Door as a family will be Good Friday. (I will still have some spiritual direction meetings to attend.) We still have two more Sundays at Open Door. You will find me blubbering in the back, right section of the sanctuary, 9 am service. Stop by for a hug and a farewell. Bring tissues. Saying goodbye to this dear place is heart wrenching. Seeing many that I know, that I have served with, many that I love... it's bitter sweet.

It's lovely having this place of connection, this blog-land. Most of you here in blog land are not people I knew through Open Door - even if you attended there. I'm glad for that just now.
Thanks for reading.

gloria

Seeking to trust

2006-03-28T14:28:00.000-06:00

"In spiritual direction... the Holy Spirit continues to function and be perceived as both the teacher and the source of grace and power. We remain dependent on grace, seek to cooperate with the Spirit, and resist any illusions about our ability to be our true selves without God's help. Intentionally giving our attention to God is both the beginning and the end goal of spiritual dirction. We are not seeking change per se. We are seeking God, seeking fuller communion with the Holy Spirit, and seeking to trust God for and in whatever unfolds."
Jeannette Bakke ~ Holy Invitations
(bold added by me)

As it is with spiritual direction, let it be with all of my life... seeking to trust God for and in whatever unfolds.

blog-worthy? you decide

2006-03-09T15:11:00.000-06:00

I've been away for a while. I just don't feel I'm coming up with anything blog-worthy. I decided I would give you a few bits of my day.

1. I really like feeding Tally. I mix up a bottle of formula and then go into her room. If she's awake then I say, "Hello!" in a high pitched, baby friendly way. I am awarded with a wrinkled nose, curled tongue, wide mouthed, dimpled face, amazing smile. It makes my day. Then we snuggle up in the old lime green, velveteen chair, adding the pink chenille pillow for support. It is pure delight to hold close this warm and wiggly baby. Unless another family member joins us, it's usually quiet. It's her and me, snuggled close. Mmmm. Yummy!

2. Today at breakfast time I put on the Blues Brothers soundtrack and entertained Livy and Gunnar with my movements (you might call it dancing). Livy was soon doing her own dancing. I thought, "I should do this crazy music thing more often."

3. Peter hates cilantro. I LOVE it! Passionately. Just the smell of it thrills me. My friend Vonda HATES it. My friend Emily LOVES it. So maybe cilantro is one of those things, like curling your tongue - you either have a gene for it or you don't. ???

goodbye old beast

2006-02-27T14:05:00.000-06:00

Last night my lover said to me, "Do you want to wash or dry?"

We are getting a new dishwasher. Pete opted to remove the old one and install the new one himself. We get the new one tomorrow (Tuesday) so Pete decided to remove the old one Saturday - in case of any problems.

We'd washed up all the dirty dishes just before disconnecting the old beast, but by Sunday eve we had a nice pile-up next to the sink. "So, do you want to wash or dry?"

I didn't even know how to start. I kept looking around the kitchen trying to figure out how to begin. Befuddled. Pete suggested rinsing first. OK, rinse! Yes! I rinsed everything that needed it and made large stacks to the right of the sink with overflow going to the table. Pete washed off the counter to the left of the sink. I filled the sink with scalding water and soap, donned the yellow rubber gloves and started with the baby bottles, the glasses and an argument.

Yes, we were arguing. But then we moved on to talk of other things. It was all so strangely familiar -- yet we had not engaged in this activity together for quite a long time. Each place we have lived during our married life together has had a dishwasher. But much of our growing up years we were the disherwasher. Pete's family had a disherwasher for a time when he was eight or so. We got our first dishwasher when I was 16. Pete said that he often did the dishes by himself. I have 3 sisters and 1 brother. Dishwashing was never a solitary time. I remember plenty of soap fights and towel snapping. I'm sure there was singing too. And lots of talking. I had forgotten what this mundane practice made space for.

Pete had to leave for Volleyball before we were finished. As he left he said, "It was nice doing dishes with you." Yes, it was.

~~~
Today I swept out the hole where the dishwasher goes. You can see a bit of the original (1980) vinyl that's under the new (2001) tile. I showed it to Livy and Gunnar. Livy said, "Oh! it's beautiful! It looks like a floor a princess would have!" Huh?! It's brown and tan and highly patterned 70s looking vinyl! Kids are great! I was priming some baseboards this weekend and Gunnar was hoping that the top coat would be red! He wants to paint his bedroom black. They are funny! I really do think they would enjoy living in a rainbow colored house.

~~~
Pete just called and said they will be delivering the new dishwasher tomorrow morning between 7 and 9! Hurrah!

Old photo

2006-02-16T15:34:00.000-06:00

My sister Gina recently sent me this photo. She's been converting old slides into digital images. This was taken at Grandma and Grandpa Herrmann's house. You can see the daisies that always grew next to the house. Gina and I are just 13 months apart. I'm the one on the right. We look so different. We used to joke that Mom and Dad found Gina in a ditch and decided to take her home for their own.

2006-02-08T09:27:00.000-06:00

Individually, we forget what we do matters. Collectively, it always counts for something. ~MaryJane Butters

2006-02-08T09:23:00.000-06:00

"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field.

I'll meet you there."

~Rumi

Spiritual Community

2006-02-01T10:55:00.000-06:00

On Monday evening I went to the spiritual direction leadership group. It's been nearly 3 months since I was there (maternity leave). The night was filled with the lavish grace of God's presence. It is so sweet when we come together, listen well to each other's stories, meditate on scripture, prayerfully notice where God is at work and wonder together at what might be upcoming. It still surprises me when I see God weave a common thread through all we are hearing, seeing, saying. Oh, I have sooo missed this community. As we closed the evening with prayer I came undone. My heart overflowed with tears. I love this way of being together.

a heart of gold

2006-01-19T14:15:00.000-06:00

Baby is starting to fuss so I don't know how much time I'll have. I often feel as if I'm playing "Concentration" and my time is nearly up.

In my last blog I wrote, "I like to believe that I'm beyond all of this preformance driven pointlessness. These fires have proved that it is not so." Then in my reading I came across this:

I Peter 1:6-7
I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffereing comes out proved genuine. When Jesus wraps this all up, it's your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of his victory.

After I read that I realized that I think that my heart is bad. I look at trials as hard times that will reveal my rotten heart. Underneath my surface mask lies immaturity, sin, meanness, faithlessness, anger. Aggravations expose me as a fake, a sinner. They expose my immaturity. At least, that's the belief I've been operating under. No wonder I resist challenges.

But this verse seems to imply something far different. What goes into the fire doesn't come out stinking. It comes out clean, and pure, and refined. Something good is exposed. Now what if I believed that. What if I went into trials, went through trials, looking for the good to be exposed, certain I would find it.

And yet trials do expose my sin and need of Christ. But not only my lack, and perhaps not primarily my lack.

This all reminds me of reading John Eldridge a few years back. He claims that our hearts are good. One Sunday, in my position as usher, I was welcoming those entering the sanctuary. As I looked into those faces my own heart was nearly exploding with joy, "My heart is GOOD! My heart is GOOD!"

Yes, indeed, a heart of pure gold.

Begin again

2006-01-02T21:41:00.000-06:00

Jan 2, 2006. Breath in the day.

On new year's eve we took some time at the dinner table to reminisce about the year 2005. We had begun by asking our kids what they liked best about 2005 and what they hoped for 2006. That turned out to be a recap of presents received this Christmas and presents hoped for in the coming year -- of course! We began to go over the events and experiences of the past year. It was amazingly catharthic to do so. 2005 was a real wing-dinger. It was lovely to think about the little summer trips we took. We remembered where we celebrated birthdays and where we would like to celebrate them this year. It was good to name the changes that have taken place, such as Pete's job change, Gunnar starting school and, of course, the addition of sweet baby Tally.

And yet, I feel pressure to downplay the magnitude of events that took place and to minimize the effects these events had on us. It is cool to be cool. Right?

Judy Hougen's recent Christmas Meditation blog spoke to me. www.emergentself.blogspot.com
She wrote, "Just the tyranny of an unattainable ideal. A world far more tidy than the one I inhabit." Oh, yes! I realized that I have been hiding, masking, white-washing my reality.

Then Matt www.mattiasandtwine.blogspot.com posted a link to a site that included this:
"We are fantastically worried about our status as cultural outsiders. We want to be in. We want to be relevant. But we know we are out. We fear we are irrelevant." And I commented, "We? Funny, I got to thinking it was just me. Feels good to be reminded - like I can be friends with my friends again."

Ah, to be vulnerable. To be honest and real. To face one's reality and not run, nor cover, nor tidy up.

There were amazing good and deep things of God in and amongst all of the good and hard of this past year. I do NOT desire to minimize his Life in my life. Nor do I want to fail to notice Him in ALL of life. But my point here is that I do not desire to use flimsy god platitudes as bandages for the pain in my life or as attempts to appear less messy to those around me. This year was damn hard. The harder and messier it got, the more I pasted on the fake smile. Or if I leaked truth, then I imagined disapproval.

I like to believe that I'm beyond all of this preformance driven pointlessness. These fires have proved that it is not so. Yet I have noticed that there are tiny spots of ease. Many times this year I have reminded myself to "be present to what IS". That in turn has given me the freedom to go gently with myself and others, and to do what I might need to do, like take a nap.

I want to begin again. I want to release myself to be myself. I want to create space for those around me to do the same. O.K. self, be released. Ding. You are free to move about the country.

Bits

2005-12-21T15:26:00.000-06:00

I've used up nearly all of my naptime blogging, so I thought I might as well use the rest of it actually posting something. Here are some random bits.

1. Yesterday was victorious! I had both a shower AND a nap! (that never happens.)

2. Tally pees and poops on us more than the other two combined. I think that she actually holds it until I open her diaper up. Of course her wipes are freezing cold - that might have something to do with it... but still!!! The other day I was bent over her little self trying to get all of the poop out of her unbelievably long crack when - Blamo!! - she loosed the cannons! There was poop all across the changing table, on both the new and the old diaper, on the bars of the changing table, on the wall behind the changing table, on the window, the window trim, on the CURTAIN!, on the dresser next to the changing table, on the monitor, and on the wall behind the dresser! Oh my gosh! That's three feet away from the little pooper's butt - amazing! I was lucky that I yanked my head back upon hearing the explosion - I nearly took it in the face.

3. This year we've cut back the Christmas cookie line-up to two essentials and two well-loved alternates. We simply cannot do without our frosted butter cookies and our thumbprint cookies. They are divine. We also made some russian tea cakes and some chocolate drizzled macaroons. Was it bad for me to follow the poop story with a food story?

4. Livy and Gunnar are sooo excited about Christmas - they like to say how many days are left until Christmas - every time they do I feel a little panic. We have much to do to get ready. We're hosting Pete's family here for Christmas eve. Sort of looking forward to that but also recognizing that I have a fair amount of anxiety related to that eve - still processing that. On Christmas morning it will be just the five of us. We will open presents and enjoy a fancy breakfast. Christmas evening will be spent with some friends - that will be lovely.

5. Yesterday the sky was light grey and the snow was falling slowly and softly. It reminded me of my time at Pacem in Terris... and then I realized that it was last December that I first went to Pacem. It felt sweet to remember my time there and to pray for all those lovely people at Pacem.

6. Time's up. Have to go nurse the baby. Oh dat sweet baby!

Tribute

2005-12-19T13:29:00.000-06:00

Dearest Jan, this one's for you. I have been camped on this passage for a while - every time I read it I think of you.

Joshua 1:1-9 (in part)

After the death of Moses the servant of God, God spoke to Joshua, Moses' assistant:
"Moses my servant is dead. Get going. Cross this Jordan River, you and all the people. Cross to the country I'm giving to the People of Israel. I'm giving you every square inch of the land you set your foot on--just as I promised Moses. From the wilderness and this Lebanon east to the Great River, the Euphrates River--all the Hittite country--and then west to the Great Sea. It's all yours. All your life, no one will be able to hold out against you. In the same way I was with Moses, I'll be with you . I won't give up on you; I won't leave you. Strength! Courage! You are going to lead this people to inherit the land that I promised to give their ancestors. Give it everything you have, heart and soul. ...Haven't I commanded you? Strength! Courage! Don't be timid; don't get discouraged. God, your God, is with your every step you take."

I have trusted you as my leader and have been led to places strange and wonderful, new and full of life. My heart overflows with gratitude to God and to you.

You have been pastor, shepherd, mentor, and friend. I feel choking sadness in seeing you leave. Yet in me there is also great joy. For you, I feel gladness that something planted long ago is now bearing fruit. And joy for me as well because my heart is with you and I trust you still.

Bless you Jan... and thank you.

Hello again

2005-12-14T13:56:00.000-06:00

Are you still there?

I haven't much time but I wanted to say something. I miss you all. I miss me too. This current life is hard. In two days we will have made it through one whole month.

Here are the quick details for those of you who haven't heard.
Talia Grace was born November 17, 2005 at 7:43 AM, 9 lbs. 5 oz., 21 inches. More about that later.

Three quotes that are rumbling round in these dark days.

God's great love and purposes for us are worked out in the messes, storms and sins, blue skies, daily work, and dreams of our common lives, working with us as we are and not as we should be.
Eugene Peterson Intro to Joshua, The Message

God meets us in the ordinary and extraordinary occurrences that make up the stuff of our daily lives.
Eugene Peterson Intro to the History Books, The Message

I must learn to have both 'everyday' and Your Day in the same exercise. In devoting myself to the works of this world, I must learn to give myself to You, to possess You, the one and only thing, in everything. ...In You, all that has been scattered is reunited; in Your Love all the diffusion of the day's chores comes home again to the evening of Your unity...
Karl Rahner (bold added by me)

I have been trying to find God in the midst of all of this - which has seemed difficult, or impossible. It was good to find the Rahner quote and to change my action to giving and possessing.

More later.

I welcome your prayers.

Slowly, Silently

2005-11-11T10:45:00.000-06:00

I recognized today my desire for communion. For community. I said to God, "I want to build it, like a house, and live in it and enjoy it." At first this seemed a bit selfish to me. Then I read this and began to wonder if this "house" might provide shelter for more than myself. Mmmm. Delightful wondering.
And yet this growth is like the slowness of the silent, forest day. The sun rises, the soft needles drift down, the branches sway, perhaps rain drips down. Nothing noisy, eventful, dramatic happens. Gentle rhythms are the main event. Slowly, silently - growth is happening.

Living things need an appropriate climate in order to grow and bear fruit. If they are to develop to completion, they require an environment that allows their potential to be realized. The seed will not grow unless there is soil that can feed it, light to draw it forth, warmth to nurture and moisture that unlocks its vitality. Time is also required for its growth to unfold.
... Meditation is the attempt to provide the soul with the proper environment in which to grow and become. In the lives of people like St. Francis or St. Catherine of Genoa one gets a glimpse of what the soul is able to become. Often this is seen as the result of heroic action lying beyond the possibility of ordinary people. The flowering of the human soul, however, is more a matter of the proper psychological and spiritual environment than of particular gifts or disposition or heroism. How seldom we wonder at the growth of the great redwood from a tiny seed dropped at random on the littered floor of the forest. From one seed is grown enought wood to frame several hundred houses. The human soul has seed potentional like this if it has the right environment. Remember that only in a few mountain valleys were the conditions right for the Sequoia gigantea, the mighty redwood, to grow.
... For both the seed and the soul, these things all take time. In both cases there is need for patience. Most of us know enough not to poke at the seed to see if it is sprouting, or to try to hurry it along with too much water or fertilizer or cultivation. The same respect must be shown for the soul as its growth starts to take place. Growth can seldom be forced in nature. Whether it is producing a tree or a human personality, nature unfolds it's growth slowly, silently.

~From The Other Side of Silence by Morton T. Kelsey

new van -- new vein

2005-11-04T14:26:00.000-06:00

new van

Soon after we got pregnant we realized that we had a vehicle problem. The Mazda protege won't accommodate three children in the back - at least not in today's required carseats. We might have been able to get all three in the back of our Ford F-150 Extended Cab but that would have been both difficult and a tight fit. So we decided it was time to get a family truckster, a grocery getter, a van.
I am loving our new van.
First, it's just fun to have a new vehicle.
Second, it is still relatively clean. That's a big deal for our family. Not sure how long that will last.
Third, it's an automatic. "What's the big deal about having an automatic?" you ask. Well, this is only the second automatic vehicle I have ever owned. I had to learn to drive with a stick shift - that was not easy. For about a year I owned a Cutlass Cruiser (station wagon). It was lovely. I felt like I was floating down the highway. Pete and I sold that just before we got married. Since then it's been all manual transmissions. Do you know how difficult it is to eat an ice cream cone while driving a manual transmission? Aaargh! Well, this new van is a dream. It is so easy and I can do almost all of the driving with just ONE hand - wow! And just the other day I bought an ice cream cone, and I held it in my right hand, and I never once changed hands, and I ate it all without the least inconvenience - it was so sweet!
Fourth, it has an incredible number of cup holders and storage cubbies. I love cup holders and storage cubbies. There's even a hidden cubbie in the door armrest.
Fifth, I can slide in and out of this vehicle easily, even with this giant baby-belly-body.
Sixth, it will be so easy to get the baby in and out of this vehicle. Whew! Sure, they weigh about nothing when they first come out but soon you fear you will tear a muscle carrying that baby-in-carseat to and from anywhere. And getting it in and out of a vehicle can be back breaking.
Seventh, it's dark grey. We decided to get a year end deal by buying a 2005. Our color choices were white and baby blue. But at the last minute he found us a dark grey - wooo hooo!
Yeah, I think that's about it.

new vein

I got some really great varicose veins during my pregnancy with #2. I've added to my collection with this pregnancy. Yesterday, while toweling off after my shower, I found a spot near one of my new veins that was hot and sore. Uh-oh!
I called the nurseline and they, of course, wanted to see me at the hospital to check it out. And yes, I have a clot. It's not deep though, and that's good because we are hoping to treat it "non-agressively". I didn't ask what "aggressive" treatment might look like - yikes! "Non-agressive" currently means lying down 4 times a day and applying a hot compress to the spot, drinking lots of fluids, not crossing my legs or staying seated for too long, and watching for signs that things have gotten worse. The fear is that the clot would go deep and cut off circulation to my leg or would make it's way to my lung - which of course would be bad.

The bit of good news in all of this is that my midwife said that magic word... "induce". I said how great that would be and then asked when. She said week 39. That means I could possibly have this baby out in just 2 weeks!!! Oh Halleluia! Hang in there body-o-mine. I promise never to do this to you again.

Baby blather

2005-11-03T10:53:00.000-06:00

I flipped the calendar to November and thought, "Oh my gosh! This is the month the baby comes! I can't believe we're that close."

She is due 3 weeks from tomorrow. 3 WEEKS!!! Every now and then I sort of freak out. Most days I would really like to have her out of my body, NOW! But reality hits when I think about something like writing out my birth plan. I get a shiver down my spine.

Sometimes the reality check is sweet, like when I try to picture what sweet-baby-girl will look like, smell like, feel like. We are so close to meeting her and there is nothing like that first introduction - pure glory!

Other times the reality check is a slow dawning.
I went completely drug free with #1's labor and delivery. (please insert amazed oohs and aaahs - whatever.) All the right elements were present: a supportive husband, a supportive midwife (John is the best!), a rested body, and a very motivated me. I rode the waves of pain like a surfer. Sure I got wet but I was able to stay just above the waves. All in all the labor was a relatively normal 24 hours and I only pushed for 30 minutes - pretty sweet all things considered.

The elements weren't quite so right with #2. We weren't rested - the hardest part of labor happened late at night. My midwife wasn't emotionally supportive, very clinical, which I think is so strange for a midwife to be clinical. anyway. The waves were on top of me. I couldn't get up. Crash! Crash! Crash! So I asked for drugs. I got an intrathecal, a shot of morphine to the spine. It's similar to an epidural but not so numbing. I could get up and walk if I wanted to. It tickled and tingled like when a limb falls asleep. It was a dream! The midwife asked, "what do you want to do now?" Jokingly I said, "Take a nap." She said, "O.K." "What!? Really? Sweet!" So we did. We took a nap for about 45 minutes. I woke knowing it was time to push. It was hell trying to wake Pete - he was out! We got the midwife and nurse in there and that baby was out in ten minutes. Ouch!
Afterwards I thought, "Why in the heck did I not take drugs with #1? Drugs rock!"
So I've been planning on having drugs with this baby. But here's the slow dawning... You don't get drugs with the first real contraction. You don't even go to the hospital until the contractions are coming every 5 minutes, and you can't talk or walk through one. Duh! It's like I'd thought I was going to get out of ALL of the pain - silly me. Crap! I can't believe I'm about to do this again. Plus, who knows, I may get there too late to have drugs. Third time around but I still don't really know what I'm in for. Oh boy!

Her room looks good. Just a few details to finish. And you just have to see the carseat - it so cute! We didn't want to spend $100 for a pink carseat. So we bought the brand we wanted but it had pooh on it, new pooh. I'm all for vintage pooh but I can't stand new pooh (I know that I just lost most of you there, but hang in there). Anyway, I got some vintage chenille off of ebay and covered the seat cushion and made a new hood. It is the cutest car seat EVER! When I first bring the baby around you'll be wanting to see the girl and I'll be "who cares about the baby! look at the carseat!" just kidding.

Well, this has gone on long enough. Perhaps tomorrow I can bore you with my complaints about how horribly huge and uncomfortable I've become. Thanks for listening to my blather.

Winter

2005-10-27T16:20:00.000-05:00

Since my last post about my internal and familial stuggle I have noticed a significant shift within.

After I posted, things detriorated further, painfully so. Something inside me began to shut down. I didn't know what to do with this new thing. Where had my fight gone to? Why was I sensing this new stillness? And how was I to answer the demand to continue activity when my heart so clearly was readying the burrow for winter.

I felt adrift with no words to even name what was happening. Then Jan blogged this poem.

The seed is in the ground.
Now may we rest in hope
While darkness does its work.
~~ Wendell Berry, A Timbered Choir

And then it became much more clear. Winter was here.

Now in my physical life I greatly dislike winter. The length and depth of coldness wear me down. But this internal winter feels like a gift. I know God's gentle leading is here. He is bringing on this season and asking me to acknowledge it's reality and to begin acting accordingly. My heart and mind have been filled with the sweetest images of winter. Warm, fur lined rabbit burrows. Thick, white blankets of snow. Soft smoke curling up from the cottage chimney. Bears with thick piles of fat curling up for the winter. Cozied up families shifting their activities away from the long, busy, harvest to a new time of hearth-side talks and early bedtimes.

In spring we tilled and planted - I began to wonder about the quality of the soil and seeds. In summer we tended and pulled weeds and watered - I began to see more clearly what was growing. In the fall we harvested - I knew a bitter harvest and felt the dying within me as frost came on. But now fall is past. Winter is here. And this winter is full of quiet, stillness, peace. And hope. This is a time of rest. A time of reduced, close-to-home living. This baby is coming soon (we have four weeks left). I feel God's arms coming around us like a big mother bear's. We are all wrapped up in a ball. I feel loved.

Yet, I am mindful of you. You, my beloved blogland commune-ity. You, my spiritual direction family. You, my friends. You are dear to me. You are important to this time. You may be experiencing your own season of winter.

Jan says, "Spring will come and with it the newness of life. Let us not grow weary in our waiting but find ways to nurture what is growing in secret." Sweet, wise Jan, thank you! And thank you blog friends - you help to nurture what is growing in secret.

It's a Norah day

2005-10-20T10:21:00.000-05:00

My kids are watching Sesame Street. Norah Jones is on today singing to Elmo about missing the letter of the day, "Y".
"Don't know why "Y" didn't come."
I need some Norah today. I need some soulful crooning.

Howie Day Lyrics

2005-10-07T15:12:00.000-05:00

Even the best fall down sometimes

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Out of the doubt that fills my mind

I somehow find

You and I collide

Liar, liar!

2005-10-04T09:55:00.000-05:00

It was supposed to come off as a joke. A very funny joke.

We are, of course, NOT naming our child Epiphany.

Baby girl has been named Talia Grace. (Tally for short.)
Talia - Hebrew - heaven's dew.
Tahlia - Greek - flowering, blooming.

I hope this clears things up.

:)

Third time's a charm

2005-09-30T09:57:00.000-05:00

Yes, I know. Three posts in one day?! But Jaime got away with it once so I thought I'd try. :)

Well, what is so important that I would need to post for the third time today? We've decided on a name for our baby! We are naming her Epiphany.

That way when she is born I can say, "I just had an...

AMAZING NEWS!!!

2005-09-30T09:50:00.000-05:00

Peter, my husband, has finally begun his own blog!
"That's amazing", you say.
Yes, I knew you'd be amazed.

Check him out at www.undecidedblogname.blogspot.com
His blog name is "some clever name".

He's good right? Wow, I've never seen such creativity! (We're like kindred spirits.)

:)

Concert Tonight!

2005-09-30T08:56:00.000-05:00

We're off to see Caedmon's Call tonight. I'm really looking forward to it! (no, really?)

I've already posted one of their songs. Here's another one that I find myself going back to over and over.

"There's Only One (Holy One)"
Words and Music by Randall Goodgame

Left his seamless robe behind
Woke up in a stable crying
Lived and died and rose again
Savior for a guilty land

It's a story like a children's tune
And it's grown familiar as the moon
So now I ride my camel high
And I'm aiming for the needle's eye

I chased the wind, but I chased in vain
I chased the earth, but it would not sustain

There's only one who never fails
To beckon the morning light
There's only one who sets loose the gales
And ties the trees down tight
When all around my soul gives way
He is all my hope and stay
There's only one, only one Holy One

Lord, You are my Prince of Peace
But this war brings me to my knees
See there's a table You've prepared
And all my enemies are there
But where my Shepherd leads
Where else can I go
Who else fills my cup till it overflows

There's only one who never fails
To beckon the morning light
There's only one who sets loose the gales
And ties the trees down tight
When all around my soul gives way
He is all my hope and stay
There's only one, only one Holy One

There's only one who never fails
To beckon the morning light
There's only one who sets loose the gales
And ties the trees down tight
To the Solid Rock I fly
Though He bids me come and die
There's only one, only one Holy One

There's only one who never fails
To beckon the morning light
There's only one who sets loose the gales
And ties the trees down tight
When all around my soul gives way
He is all my hope and stay
And there's only one, only one Holy One

I was going to add bold to my favorite lines but then I realized that I would be adding bold to pretty much the entire song. But there are some really sweet lines in there.

I hope to sing this with the congregation sometime. It would be so great to shout this out together.

Counter-culture Jesus

2005-09-27T15:03:00.000-05:00

I'm blog stuck again. This time because I fear that I am being defined by my current "tough" place. Damn, I don't want that!

Can I walk this dark path without you thinking of me solely in terms of my dark path-ness? Can you see the God-child in the midst of this journey? Am I creating this dynamic by blogging about this dark path place so frequently?

Well dash it all, this dark path place is simply where I am. Furthermore, it is where I feel God is leading me. What am I to do?

Here are the current wonderings.

Matt. 10:34-37 Msg
Don't think I've come to make life cozy. I've come to cut -- make a sharp knife-cut between son and father, daughter and mother, bride and mother-in-law -- cut through these cozy domestic arrangements and free you for God. Well-meaning family members can be your worst enemies. If you prefer father or mother over me, you don't deserve me. If you prefer son or daughter over me, you don't deserve me.

Matt 15:1-3 NIV
Then some Pharisees and teachers of the law came to Jesus from Jerusalem and asked, "Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders?... Jesus replied, "And why do you break the command of God for the sake of your tradition? For God said, 'Honor your father and mother' and 'Anyone who curses his father or mother must be put to death.' But you say that if a man says to his father or mother, 'Whatever help you might otherwise have received from me is a gift devoted to God,' he is not to 'honor his father' with it. Thus you nullify the word of God for the sake of your tradition. You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you;
"'These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.'"

Wow, feel the tension! So which is it? One seems like an apple, the other an orange. Or rather, one is a butterfly, the other a bowling ball. But God is calling me into the tension. Not to be torn apart, but to wonder, to hold this tension gently.

Already he is revealing something. In the Matt 15 passage I run ahead and jump into the tension. This time he stopped me early. Listen.
"Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders?... Jesus replied, "And why do you break the command of God for the sake of your tradition?"
Families are full of tradition. We all have a system that we grew up in. Was it surprising to you when you first realized that other families didn't do things the way your family did things? Did you get hurt when you unintentionally stepped over that invisible line at your friend's house? your date's house? In recent years I have become more aware of my own family's system. And now I am making choices to break the traditions of my family. I can hear my mom's voice in place of the Pharisee's, "Gloria claims to be your disciple. So why does she break the traditions of this family? How disrespectful and unloving! This is the way we've always done things, as did our parents!" and Jesus responding to her, "I am indeed calling her to love and respect, to the commands of God that have been in place for all time. But your traditions are not my traditions. I have come to cut through these cozy domestic arrangements and free her, and you, for God."
Ah, it's coming together a bit.

This still doesn't solve the tension of being daughter against mother, let alone the tension of being cut free for God while still honoring and respecting my parents.

"Whenever someone has a ready heart for this, the insights and understandings flow freely." Matt 13:12 Msg

Lord, I open my heart to you. Make it ready. In your good timing flow.

getting to know me?

2005-09-20T09:43:00.000-05:00

For you Eija, and for anyone else who might find this interesting,

5 things I plan to do before I die: (these aren't really plans, more like dreams or hopes).
1. Birth one more child. (not a lot of options on this one)
2. Travel: Grand Canyon, Ireland, take kids to tropical beach.
3. Own and renovate either a 1920's bungalow or a turn of the century farm house.
4. Learn tai chi.
5. have goats and chickens again
6. learn to play the cello or guitar

5 things I can do:
1. Quilt and make penny rugs.
2. Pray
3. Sing
4. Find a good deal
5. Cook and Bake

5 things I cannot do:
1. html good buddy.
2. almost anything athletic
3. stay away from sugar
4. enjoy goat cheese
5. fake it well

5 things that attract me to (the opposite sex) Peter:
1. The way he smells, specifically his neck.
2. When he loses control laughing.
3. His willingness to listen
4. His out-of-the-box perspective
5. His courage

5 things I say most often:
1. Beautiful!
2. Crap!
3. Oh my gosh!
4. God, what are you inviting here?
5. Feel free to fuss in your room or outside, just not by me.

5 Celebrity crushes:
1. Lenny Kravitz - oh come on!!!
Dudes I like from the roles they played in a movie:
2. Leonardo DiCaprio - from his role in Titanic - reminds me of a young Peter Carlson
3. Orlando Bloom - from his role as Legolas - strong silent type.
4. The guy Bridget Jones ends up with in Bridget Jones' Diary - can't remember his name - strong silent type.
5. The younger Mr. Emerson from "Room With a View" - his passion and masculinity is beautiful!

5 People I want to do this next:
anyone who can do this with a great deal of wit and sarcasm, including but not limited to:
1. Anne Lamott - that would be so great - yeah, like she even reads this blog.
2. my husband - yeah, like he even reads this blog :)
3. Judy Hougen
4. Joel of preaching don't pay

two blogs I like

2005-09-16T09:43:00.000-05:00

Here are two blogs that I really like.

pearl -- www.pearlsoul.blogspot.com

joel -- www.whiskeyreview.blogspot.com

Held

2005-09-16T08:59:00.000-05:00

As I go through this journey, stepping out into this new land, I find your comments of great encouragement. Thank you to each of you for your words.

Since writing my last post I have felt positively held by God. There is pain and grief but it is not consuming me. We sit together. Love, pain, grief, hope, me, the Father, sitting together.

I love the Caedmon's Call cd. They've traveled to India, Equador and the pain and beauty these places hold. What they sing of has gotten mixed up with Katrina, my family, my Family, my God journey - all of it. This song has been part of the recent day's "holding".

Caedmon's Call - Share the Well

Wings of the Morning
words and music by Andrew Osenga and Joshua Moore

I woke to the sirens of the city
They were calling me to hold my head up high
But the truth was in the dust that hangs like curtains
From the beggars to the sky

The ads and billboards rained in every language
The message every politician knows
When we're fed that we are nothing we'll believe it
And then do what we are told

The spark of the divine
I see it in your eyes
It's there behind the lies that tie you down

On the wings of the morning
Hope is rising
In the darkest night
Your love and light prevail

Ask any good detective, he will tell you
It's the eyes that always give the truth away
And in yours I see the fear that's bound and gagged you
With no hope for escape

It's true that we are fallen as an angel
But you and me, we're also holy as a prayer
Made in the image of a giver and a lover
Who left His throne to come down here

The spark of the divine I see it in your eyes
It's there behind the lies that tie you down

On the wings of the morning
Hope is rising
In the darkest night
Your love and light prevail

We will rise, rise, on the wings of the morning
Though we hide, hide, in the shadows of night
There is hope, hope, in the hands that have made us
And are holding us tight...

Hope is rising... on the wings of the morning
Hope is rising... in the shadows of the night
Hope is rising... from the hands that have made us
And are holding us tight...

I love this song. It makes me feel like a hero. Both of my parents grew up being fed the lie that they were nothing, and then doing what they were told. No freedom, tied down with lies. I think that is part of the reason my choices have been such a slap in the face - just who do I think I am?!? I'm hoping the ties are being loosened.

My mom described my current place as a "stronghold". Strong. Hold. Mmmmmm... Oh, I hope so. "Hope is rising... from the hands that have made us and are holding us tight."

In the darkest night
Your love and light prevail

What did I expect?

2005-09-13T14:05:00.000-05:00

I've been noticing in myself this desire to reconnect with my family of origin, one sister in particular. But each time I would internally move toward the idea I found that there was no bridge over the water. Yet, still I found that I was left with this vague, nagging sense of responsibility to fix this thing I'd broken.

I sat down with Pete on Sunday and had a 'come present to what is' conversation. Here's what is: I miss my family, sometimes a lot. I feel so sad about the choices they've made. I have been listening to the nagging voice. I have been accepting the role of "the-only-one-who-can-fix-the-problem". I have been afraid to make a move, and have been passively sitting here.

Monday evening my mom left a message on our answering machine that I did not receive until this morning. It went something like, "How are you? I haven't talked with you in a while and I'm wondering how you are doing on your crafts for the Calico Barn. I'm also wondering how Livy and Gunnar are doing at school. Would love to hear from you. Mom." Normal. Completely normal. But my internal response was hurt, offense and frustration. I went and took a shower and found myself praying 'Our Father', but not getting past the first line. It quickly turned into "my father, my father, my father". I was back to my 'permanent trade' blog.

I took some time to read, pray and journal. Then it was time to take action. To be clear about my intensions. I sent mom and email.

Mom,
First I'd like to say that, like you, I'm desiring to reconnect. I miss you and think of you often.
However, this is where things are with me. You have chosen to listen to others when they talk about me. I don't feel safe sharing myself with you, nor do I feel o.k. about acting like things are normal between us. Because you have chosen to behave in a way that I find personally hurtful and relationally destructive, I have decided to protect myself by remaining separate. There's been no change in the way the family relates, or in the way that you relate to me, therefore I have decided to remain outside of family relations.
Love,
Gloria

Then I checked out blogworld and came across Erin's blog. Found these Sara Groves words:

"The past is so tangible
I know it by heart
Familiar things are never easy to discard
I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go
I am caught between the promise
And the things I know
...
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads were closed off to me
While my back was turned"

My Lord has such sweet timing.

But here's the funny thing (funny strange, not funny ha ha). I talked with Pete at lunch today about my family's system and that right now change is not really even an option because they get their emotional and relational needs met through the existing system. Despite all of that I was still taken aback by my mom's response to my email. It follows:
Thanks for you reply - Then I am to expect that you will not be joining us for the holidays? What are you thinking about taking part in the name exchange? Also, I am expecting that you will not take some time to pick out the material for the baby blanket - if you are not going to complete the cross stitch, please send the squares back - someone else will finish them.Love Mom
Oh, by the way, we will be gone the 24th - you have clothes from Cedar Rapids and Denver and the recliner is still there for you if you want it. The clothes are downstairs in a large suitcase (keep the suitcase - it's from Gina) and 3 large shopping bags. So you can come that week end when we are not there so you don't have to see us.
Love,Mom

So what was I expecting? That she would break? That she would give up on the old system? That she would change her mind? That all of my crazy actions would suddenly make sense to her?

I still find myself surprised that my family can't function or bear the thought that I would ask them not to talk about me behind my back. What?! I know all of the logical reasoning. But my heart won't hear any of that. My heart is like a child and it just wants my family to love me.

So let's have a toast to the tension of pressing into my new identity where God is my father while still holding the love and the pain of my earthly family.

make mine monastic

2005-09-10T11:02:00.000-05:00

But in St. Benedict himself we have a layman writing a guide for his household, his extended family of brothers with their busy shared life and all its inevitable demands: preparing food and washing up, looking after guests, maintaining buildings and property, educating children, caring for the sick, and also earning a living. His concern was to help them impose on this busy life such a structure and order (both external and interior) that they could make prayer the one essential priority, the central focus of everything else. There was here no separation of prayer and life. Everything flowed from one center...

from the Preface to Seeking God: the way of St. Benedict, both preface and book by Esther de Waal

How delightfully domestic! How mundane! How normal these inevitable demands of life! But to find no separation of prayer and life - that's the unusual thing.

This is just what the great physician ordered. I am so looking forward to reading this book.

Yearning

2005-09-07T14:34:00.000-05:00

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

Meanwhile, themoment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He know us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

Romans 8: 22-28 The Message

The new and the not-yet remain for me as a dream, hoped for but unrealized. I wait.

Oh Delight!

2005-08-29T15:28:00.000-05:00

As we prayerfully consider what God is leading us to concerning this new community that Jan is proposing please check out Paul Freedland and his community at www.spaceforgod.com

It is delightful to find other travelers along the road.

Peace to you my brothers and sisters!

Tame this

2005-08-28T12:02:00.000-05:00

You give life to everything,
You give life to everything,
You give life to everything.
Blessed be your name!

"I'm never going to ride you am I? And no one ever should."
Indian boy to the horse Spirit in the movie Spirit.

grief for a friend

2005-08-27T20:08:00.000-05:00

I received a packet in the mail today. It was from a college friend who now lives in Arizona.

The packet came to announce the life, birth and death of her baby boy. She was approximately four months along in her pregnancy when labor began. They were unable to stop it, so the baby was born. He lived for an hour.

I am filled with sadness for her.

holding babies

2005-08-25T09:19:00.000-05:00

This morning at around 4:30 AM my two sweet kids were sneaking around whispering. Pete got up to send them back to bed. This type of activity is not usual but they were both excited about the play that they are working up with the neighborhood kids - they wanted to get working!

At 7:30 Gunnar came hopping into bed with me. "Mom, can I sleep with you?" Now usually that means, "Mom, can I wiggle around in your bed until you are completely awake?" But today he fell promptly back to sleep. Lucky boy. I didn't.

In his sleep he did a few jerks and grunts. Baby girl was doing her own morning movement. She started with hiccups, then moved on to other 'cat in a bag' strange movements. Wish I could figure out which parts are which.

It delights me to see my children sleeping. For brief moments they are my babies again.

And suddenly I realized that even though I am tired of being pregnant that this is the only time that I get to fully 'hold' this child. Very soon she will be set spinning, ever more out and away from me.

To everything there is a season. Delight in the moment.

Vintage

2005-08-25T08:41:00.000-05:00

I was born in the summer of '69. I am a child of the 70s. Being such, I still enjoy music from the 70s. Yesterday I listened to some very vintage Phil Keaggy.

Yesterday also found me working with a quilt with top dating to circa 1880. I found the quilt top on ebay. I sent it with batting (filling) and backing to a machine quilter in Iowa. Yesterday I was working on the binding (finished edge). I adore old quilts, especially those that date 1910 and earlier. Sadly, quilts this old are either expensive or in poor shape. This quilt top had never been used or washed--nice, crisp fabric. Some of the dyes they used during this period were toxic to the fabric and over time cause the fabric to become quite fragile. There are many fragile fabrics on this quilt, one that ripped during quilting. Still, finishing the quilt stabilized it. It was fun examining the 75+ fabrics in my hope of accurately dating the quilt.

It was strange and wonderful to mix my personal history with this quilt's history.

Poustinia

2005-08-23T10:46:00.000-05:00

"So many of us feel that the rest of men are looking for him where he cannot be easily found - in the comfortable life which is in itself not sinful, but which can become a sort of asphyxiation and isolation from the rest of mankind. Comfort can become an idol too."

Poustinia

I think that makes me part of "the rest of men". And yes, I know of asphyxiation and isolation. There is much in me that has yet to be set free... or at least has yet to realize it's already free state.

in silence revealed

2005-08-22T09:27:00.000-05:00

'Have you understood all these?'
They said, 'Yes.'
And he said, 'Well then,
every scribe who becomes a disciple
of the kingdom of Heaven
is like
a householder
who brings out from his storeroom
new things
as well as old.'

Matt. 13: 51 & 52 New Jerusalem Bible.

a few things

2005-08-19T11:52:00.000-05:00

1. I've had to change my settings to allow registered users only - can't believe I'm getting blog junkmail.

2. I'm off to my silent retreat this afternoon. I have really been looking forward to this. I'm sure the weekend will go too fast.

3. Thank you to all of you for the comments you've been leaving. Your words and support mean much to me.

Peace to you. God's peace to you.

gloria

A Permanent Trade

2005-08-17T12:14:00.000-05:00

I broke my Sabbath rest from my family by calling my folks on Saturday.
It did not go well.
They've read the Boundaries book and think that it is an unbiblical, disrespectful, and misleading document.
They kept asking questions about who is "leading" this, and what does Peter think about this, is my friend H. involved? Mom said that as she has described it to a pastor friend he thought there was a 'stronghold' here. Mom and dad said they have never heard of anything like this ever being done (this being: a person refraining from engaging with their relations for a specified time frame). I got the impression that they think I've joined a cult.
They not only disagree with the choices I have made but claim that I have acted out these choices in the coldest, most unkind possible way.

I felt attacked.

When I (finally) got off the phone I felt the desire, even need, to be present to what is.
I processed with Pete for a while, feeling somewhat confused, numb and heavy. Then Pete said, "You are creating a circumstance where change is possible." We've talked about this concept a lot. It is very connected to both Family Systems Therapy and Liminality, where when we mess with the status quo, disrupt homeostasis, enter into times of uncertainty that it is there that we have the greatest potential to transform. But when Pete said those words to me I didn't engage with them philosophically or intellectually. I broke inside and began to sob. Suddenly I felt hope emerge from the shadows and the heavy weight of this sadness seemed worth it.

The following are excerpts from my journal entry on Aug 15th.

coming present to you means coming present to me.
I guess that's hard because it hurts in here.
I want to blog but I avoid it. So hard to put into words all that's going on in here.

I'm feeling hurt, pain, rejection, disappointment, grief.
Back to this place where anxiety is of no use - the truth is as horrible as imaginable (or nearly so). It is, not will be. I feel adrift, keep trying to find my moorings, keep trying to get concrete.

small niggling worries - that they might gang up and attack me. Right now, I just want them to leave me alone. Stay away from me!

There was always the cushion to fall back upon, "Maybe I wasn't clear. Maybe they didn't understand what I wanted." This time I was clear.

I wish that I didn't care.
I wish that it meant little to me.

On one hand I want to put to death this enmeshment, this ill dependency, to grow up and be an adult. On the other hand I don't want no relationship. I want good relationship.

They want neither of the above. They want the old ways that no longer fit or work for me. Without their cooperation a move toward good relationship is not possible.

However, I do not need their cooperation to grow up, to claim for myself new life, new ays, to move into health. I have God's help and his people's help. I have a new parent and new siblings and...

...I never wanted to replace you.
...and I am sad to say that if this was not so obvious I would be tempted to settle, to take you back as those who might give me value and love and fill my soul.
Sick.
At least part of this pain is the pain of addiction withdrawal -- I want to give up getting my value from you without actually doing so. It's like I'm going to keep shopping at the Gap but try to stop getting my value from my image -- 'yeah, good luck with that Gloria'.

They are actually helping me, by making this separation a clearly needful thing, by rejecting me, by not loving me or the things I am moving toward. This is all gift. Severe mercy. even grace - that I should get life at the cost of their death.

so I release them hoping someday we might 'meet up' on this path, or to follow their own path toward life.
I allow you to get this 'wrong'.
I release you to experiment, take risks, make mistakes, fail me, fail God, fail yourselves, fail each other.

Yes, I release my family to fail me, (oh God, I don't know if I can say it) hate me, mistreat me, misunderstand me, misuse all I have entrusted to them, revile all I hold dear, reject me and the principles I adhere to, make false claims against me, slander me, attempt to control me, use me, abuse me.

I'm really going to need a new Abba. I cling to you my Abba-God.
As it should be.
I don't just 'cling' - as if the danger might pass. Instead I move my allegiance over to you, accept my value and life from you now. A permanent trade.

bits of news

2005-08-08T20:36:00.000-05:00

news from the yard:
We have a chubby goldfish that we put in the 50 gallon rain barrel for the summer. I was surprised to see it down two whole food pellets that I put in there. I'd always assumed that they needed to get all mushy before fishy could eat them. Fishy usually dives for the bottom whenever I come around but it was cloudy today and I don't think he noticed me. It was fun to watch him for a while.
The astilbe are absolutely scorched.
I'm sick of watering - was so glad to hear the rain last night/this morning/whenever it was.
This is the first year out of 4 that I haven't scorched the hibiscus bush upon setting it out for the summer. I gave it a hard pruning and it is full and loaded with buds - happy day.
The zinnias I planted along the garage 'over' the tulips are so lovely. They came up and bloomed in no time flat. I'm very pleased with them.
The yard is also rather scorched. The greenest parts are crabgrass.

News from the pregnant lady:
I'm horribly sick of being pregnant and still have 3 1/2 months to go. I am most definitely 'enlarged in the waiting'. I'm pretty sure that baby girl is practicing up for marching band because every day she seems to go on parade. There are other discomforts that I do not feel at liberty to share with blog land but I will say that being pregnant at 36 is rather more difficult (physically) than being pregnant at 29 was. Emotionally it seems easier - I'm better at being o.k. with whatever is going on that day and not feeling guilty or mad if it requires a slower pace. Acquaintances from church are noticing my condition, and are very excited for me. Their completely lovely and normal reaction falls on weary ground. I feel reminded of my condition about 600 times a day and usually these reminders are difficult and not exciting. At this point I want to forget that I'm pregnant and talk about something else.
In less crabby moments I find I'm wondering about this 'hidden life' and the wonderful symbol she is for the life of Christ in us: growing, enlarging us and enlarging in us, formed in darkness, separate but so dependent. Did you know that a woman's heart enlarges during pregnancy? (It has to to take care of the much increased amount of blood flowing through her veins.) What a beautiful image of what God does in us when he is growing new life within - he enlarges our hearts.

Change is hard

2005-08-03T20:05:00.000-05:00

I've been feeling stuck lately. Depressed and stuck.

I'm still in this place of shock and anger and disbelief and doubt concerning my relationships with my family.
I can't believe things have turned out this way.
I am saddened and disgusted with what has been revealed as true.
I am angry about the years of 'no's that were never voiced, never respected, never listened to; and how nothing has changed...well, except me. I am finally learning to voice my 'no' - but it's not respected, instead it is actively disrespected.

And I doubt...
am I way off base?
why does it seem like no one else is abandoning their families?
am I crazy?
or just sinful and selfish and hurtful like they claim?
have I gone too far?
what if I'm wrong?

And I worry...
about my kids. I encouraged them to enter into loving relationship with these people and now I am cutting them off from them. Is this damaging them? (Funny thing is that you, God, do the same to me: bringing people into my life and then taking them out and I never know when and I don't often understand your timing. So I have to rest in the hope that providing a healthy mom is more important than saving them from this pain.)

and I worry about losing the respect of people that I admire. I guess that I am afraid that my immaturity shows and you see it and you think less of me for it. That's scary... cuz it might be true. I might be wrong. I know that I lack understanding. I'm guessing that if I was 'further down the path' I would be able to handle this differently, better.

I find that I compare myself to others... a lot!
if God called me here and this is right and good then why didn't he call her here, or him here?
What a dead end! What a ridiculous waste of time! I know that he is calling me to this place. Which is both relieving and terrifying. At times, I would give anything to make every one I know take this journey with me (yeah, I know, talk about bad boundaries). But I am getting closer and closer to being o.k. with the aloneness of this place. Sometimes I am very NOT o.k. with it, but other times it feels possible.

So today, as I journaled out all of my thoughts I was surprised to find that I wasn't grieving. No, I was making my case. And I was spending a lot of time writing about what I don't want. But I desire to spend more time thinking about and moving toward what I want, desire, hope for. Here's what I want:
To work together toward something new.
To have real relationship with each member of my family.
To respect each other's uniqueness, autonomy, power of choice, adulthood, separateness, journey.
To love, respect, and honor each person well.
I want to learn to trust well, from the heart.

Then I wrote this:
"Lord, as I think about what I want I realize that I am still feeling 'bound' to my family. I am also feeling the need to release them so that I can 'get on with' my journey, my desire, what I want, what you are calling me to... I do believe you've called me here. I don't understand it all. I'm sure that I'm failing here and there. I might be wrong. But these are my convictions. Right now, I need to let go of my family so that I can embrace what you are giving me."

Yeah, that's about it.

Whew! I feel unstuck.

Prayer for the Body

2005-07-27T10:09:00.000-05:00

Grace And Peace

Written by Jill Phillips and Andy Gullahorn

All the weary, tired souls full of hunger
Needing something that fills
All the thirsty that heard about living water
Need a way to the well
It’s a strange crowd
But still somehow
The lost have been found
By the One in whose Name we come
Grace and peace to you through our Lord Jesus
Times like these we need that kind of love
To take these things coming in between us
And wash us clean with the body and the blood
Early that night just before he was taken
He broke of the bread
So we could taste that He has died, He is risen
He is coming again
And it’s much more
Than we could ask for
To be made pure
By the One in whose Name we come

"It's a strange crowd" - I love that line. I wish that I could sing this song to you, my beloved family.

Great Power

2005-07-21T20:48:00.000-05:00

As I was driving toward home this afternoon I passed a church that has out front one of those message boards. I'm not fond of these message boards but this one had something really profound to proclaim.

The task in front is never as great as the power behind.

Wow! Now I got to thinking... I really need to get me one of these power behinds. I mean, I only have one of these old model, manual behinds. Don't get me wrong, my manual behind is great! -- if by "great" you mean "large". My butt shelf is developing nicely... soon you will be able to set your drink on it, if you happen to be stuck in line behind me, and my behind.

So I might have to visit this church. Sounds like they really have something going here. I'm so glad they advertised it on their sign.

2005-07-20T08:48:00.000-05:00

"...when she was done, she said to me, 'You know, my eyes ain't too good at all. I can't see nothing but the general shape of things, so I got to rely on my heart. Why don't you go on and tell me everything about yourself, so as I can see you with my heart.'"
--From Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo

With sweet thoughts to all of you...
but especially to Jan and Heather B. because I know that you read this book and loved it,
to Christy for her blogging-blindness and her heart-sight,
to Jesse for loving story and reminding me that it's been too long since I've dipped my heart in the stream.

Sweet Sabbath

2005-07-19T15:39:00.000-05:00

The following quote is from http://www.odyssey.blogs.com
A Summer Sabbath
Chris Erdman writes: It's time for a summer pause, a Sabbath's rest. My friend Ed tells of his friend, Martin (a Rabbi) who tells us that he practices Sabbath not because it is healthful and not because it is a duty, but because, "When I am old, I want to have come to believe that the world is not my responsibility. I have a role to play, but it is God's action that counts. Sabbath is my way of checking the compulsive and presumptive notion that my work is most important. Sabbath keeps me clear about God and about my role in the world. When I die I want to have gotten that right."

(bold and underline added by me)

That is just the sweetness I feel concerning my family. I have no words for prayer, nor do I believe prayer is what God is calling me to. In my listening I am attempting to follow what God is leading me to... that, for now, is Sabbath.

Confession

2005-07-18T16:32:00.000-05:00

Watch out. This blog is what you might call "heavy".
Personal inventories, personality tests. After taking one such test Pete took great delight in finding out that my thought pattern was described as "random and web-like". Hmmm, that explains a lot! Can’t help thinking about that as I try to piece together these small bits of glass and tile. Will you be able to see the mosaic?
How strange and unexpected that in this time of learning boundaries and learning to live honestly from the heart that God would lead me into this time of confession, Sabbath, fasting.
What is the connection?
How can I express to you what is developing?
As I have tried to explain to my sisters some of my "strange-to-them" choices I used the analogy of nation. Our family is a nation with it’s own laws and police enforcement and judges, etc. I explained that I was no longer going to obey the "laws of the land". Instead, I’ve decided to follow a different set of laws. It’s been interesting, disturbing, humbling to watch God continue to develop that theme.
I began this journey stuck in the mud of self pity. "Oh! They are so mean to me!" God seems to be saying, "Go ahead! Take a nice long look at yourself! You have been having an adulterous relationship with your family. You have been prostituting yourself to them in vain hope of getting life. How has that worked out for you? And how ridiculous! You have ME, your true husband, your true father, your true source of life. Did you think I would take that sitting down? Did you think I would say, ‘Oh well.’ Is that the kind of God-lover you think I am? I love you enough to destroy your false gods. I am going to smash your old nations, I will remove you from the cities you love. And to be honest, I am really mad at you! I feel betrayed! Turn back to me, my love. Tell me the truth about what you’ve been up to. I know of your fickle heart and that you still long for your old ways, your old lovers. Trust me to teach you how to love me well. I will do it. Because you are mine… and I love you."
"Oh my God! Forgive me. I have followed in the footsteps of my ancestors. I have chosen to try and get life from my relationships with them. I have forsaken your ways, your example and followed both their poor example and my own selfish ways. I know that you are destroying these old ways. I see the sun setting on our family’s old ways - Good bye old ways. The sun is setting on the old ways I did relationship - Good bye old ways. Sometimes this feels like a desert place and I look around at all of the destruction and rubble. But I see now that this place is where the streams of abundance are! Back there, in the "good ole days" that was desert land. I see that now. The way that you’ve exposed my sin feels like a gift. I am ashamed but I am not full of shame. Instead I’m full of gratitude and humility and joy. I receive this exile with gentleness and patience. I receive this Sabbath, this rest with joy and understanding. I wait for you to bring to life in me your life. I confess that my anger has been my way of clinging to these old relationships and ways. Help me to turn from them to you. "

Leviticus 26:27-43 partial, Message
"And if this – even this! -- doesn’t work and you still won’t listen, still defy me, I’ll have had enough and in hot anger will defy you, punishing you for your sins seven times over: … I’ll turn your cities into rubble; I’ll clean out your sanctuaries; I’ll hold my nose at the "pleasing aroma" of your sacrifices… There’ll be nothing left in your land, nothing going on in your cities. With you gone and dispersed in the countries of your enemies, the land, empty of you, will finally get a break and enjoy its Sabbath years. All the time it’s left there empty, the land will get rest, the Sabbaths it never got when you lived there.
"As for those among you still alive, I’ll give them over to fearful timidity – even the rustle of a leaf will throw them into to a panic. They’ll run here and there, back and forth, as if running for their lives even though no one is after them, tripping and falling over one another in total confusion. You won’t stand a chance against an enemy. You’ll perish among the nations; the land of your enemies will eat you up. Any who are left will slowly rot away in the enemy lands. Rot. And all because of their sins, their sins compounded by their ancestors’ sins.
"On the other hand, if they confess their sins and the sins of their ancestors, their treacherous betrayal, the defiance that set off my defiance that sent them off into enemy lands; if by some chance they soften their hard hearts and make amends for their sin…I’ll remember my covenant… And I’ll remember the land.
"The land will be empty of them and enjoy its Sabbaths while they’re gone."

Nehemiah 9:1-2 Message
The People of Israel gathered for a fast, wearing burlap and faces smudged with dirt as signs of repentance. The Israelites broke off all relations with foreigners, stood up and confessed their sins and the iniquities of their parents.

Jeremiah 3:12-14 Message
"’Turn back, fickle Israel.
I’m not just hanging back to punish you.
I’m committed in love to you.
My anger doesn’t seethe nonstop.
Just admit your guilt.
Admit your God-defiance.
Admit to your promiscuous life with casual partners,
pulling strangers into the sex-and-religion groves
While turning a deaf ear to me.’"
GOD’s Decree.
"Come back, wandering children!"
GOD’s Decree.
"I, yes I, and your true husband."

Romans 10:5-10 partial, Message
But trusting God to shape the right living in us is a different story.
The word that saves is right here
as near as the tongue in your mouth,
as close as the heart in your chest.
It’s the word of faith that welcomes God to go to work and set things right for us. This is the core of our preaching. Say the welcoming word to God – "Jesus is my Master" – embracing, body and soul, God’s work of doing in us what he did in raising Jesus from the dead. That’s it. You’re not "doing" anything; you’re simply calling out to God, trusting him to do it for you. That’s salvation. With your whole being you embrace God settings thins right, and they you say it, right out loud: "God has set everything right between him and me!"

In Better Homes and Gardens I recently read this definition for change: to exchange for something else. Indeed!

2005-07-15T20:48:00.000-05:00

I've been angry a lot lately. Really angry. Not that it really shows. No one's asking me, "why are you so angry?"
But the anger makes me tired. I think (but am not certain) that the anger is stemming from unresolved conflicts. Everywhere I look I see them. And I want to resolve them but I don't know what to do. From this chair tonight I do not see how.
The other day I was just walking around the house when I realized, "hey, I'm really mad. I'm mad at mom and friend." (friend shall remain anonymous.) I decided to journal. I was no further than a sentence in when I realized that I was fighting myself to be honest about my anger. So after giving myself permission to let it fly... it did. It really flew. with plenty of nice swear words for added lift.
For a long time the writing was about my mom, but after I'd gotten all of that off my chest I strangely found myself venting simultaneously about my sister and my friend (there's no real world connection here). I kept using they and found that I was feeling so betrayed by their actions and how they were attacking something precious to me.
And all of the sudden... it clicked! It was my actions that created this mess! They were all very happy indeed with the relationships we had. I was the one who needed something different and moved toward it. From their angle it was me that betrayed them, it was me that attacked something precious to them. Suddenly I was on the other side of the river! And for a day I felt o.k. For a day all trace of victim mentality was gone and I felt strong with the power of personal choice.
Since then I see myself cycling (not on a bike). Anger, sadness or something else rises -- I move into it -- something new emerges.
But generally speaking I am still really angry. In my head I say the F word a lot. Sometimes anger masks sadness. Sometimes sadness masks anger. The reality is that I have a whole lot to be angry about -- so right now it is through angry-land I go.

Crazy for Summer

2005-07-10T22:03:00.000-05:00

As a couple, Pete and I aren't "spur of the moment" types. But, in the spirit of desiring to actually live life we struck out on two rather unplanned adventures this weekend.

Saturday we left at 2:30 pm for Gooseberry Falls State Park. I have been wanting to show the kids Lake Superior - so even though it was late in the day we packed some sandwiches and drinks and off we went. The drive was tedious but the adventure was great. I dangles my feet in the rushing water while Pete chased the kids over the rocks at the base of middle falls. It amuses me that Pete has to do things he wouldn't choose to do on his own but because he fears for our children's safety he chases after them on their adventure. Sometimes our children help us to loosen up and live. What in the heck happened to us? Why did we give up so many things that make life worth living? "Oh no, we might get wet, or hot, or slip and scrape our shins!!"
After the falls we took the hike down to lake superior. I love gentle hikes. More challenging hikes are welcome too - just not in my current condition - sometimes I get winded standing still. When hiking we usually carry a fanny-pack that has water bottle attachments, but in our spontaneous mode we hadn't thought of that so we were without water and I was getting really thirsty. Just as a cloud of regret began to darken the skyline we came to the end of our trail and behold... a water fountain! What unexpected provision - hurray!
We popped out where the river (don't know the name of it) empties into Lake Superior. It seemed like a protected little bay area. Steep cliffs off to one side, the sun setting behind us in the river valley. Beautiful! The kids began looking for interesting rocks - we stayed and enjoyed it all for a while. On our way back up the trail we saw a deer eating from the river below - completely unafraid.
The drive home was late - we didn't arrive home until nearly midnight. I was struggling to stay awake - to keep Pete company - I wasn't driving thankfully.

Today we left even later, 4 pm to go to William O'Brien State Park - a much shorter drive, only 50 minutes. "We paid for a State Park pass, and by golly we're going to get our money's worth!" No, the real reason is even more ludicrous. I was looking for a lake we could swim in that would allow noodles and floaties and such. The beach at William O'Brien is sandy and well groomed. The water was delightfully warm and shallow, which is great for playing with the kids. Olivia is such a go-getter. She spent the entire time trying out new moves. "Mommy, Daddy watch me do this!" We had to coax Gunnar out of the shallow-shallows into the to-his-chest shallows. After that he was talking about what a big kid he is. We had a wonderful swim.

We took risks. We got hot. We got wet. We saw beautiful things. We breathed sweet air. We ate car sandwiches, dairy queen, and cheetos. We had a wonderful weekend.

Clinging

2005-07-06T13:47:00.000-05:00

I can't seem to shake this sadness. There's one part of me that is desperate to do this, shake it. I'm tempted toward anger, revenge, being a victim, despair... anything but simply feeling this sadness. This part of me tends to think of this experience in terms of darkness, cruelty, "the end", hopelessness.
But there's this other piece, thankfully. The blogger from Sleeping with bread left this comment on Jan's site yesterday, ". . . staying the journey . . . trusting that this darkness, this tragic time, is also light unimaginable . . ." I have been clinging to this since reading it yesterday. This part of me knows that this place is very sad but also full of hope, that it feels like death but is full of life, that this place seems dark and scary but is full of light unimaginable.
It's like these two parts are having a tug-of-war within me. I'm tired.
And sad.

I wasn't expecting Dave's sermon on Sunday to hit home. I knew that he would be speaking on "when God is silent". (I can't even say that phrase without saying it in a drawn out, southern baptist preacher style, "when Gooooood is silenttt!") But it came home like a gift, a spot of light in this dark place. I feel God calling me out of the unhealthy attachment that I have with my family. In some ways this "fast" chose me - in the way that my family has given me their "no" and in the way that they have excluded me. But now I'm feeling God call me out of this "poor me" place. Now he seems to be asking me to also choose this fast - for the purpose of loosening my ties with this family and strengthening my ties with him. So we spent some time together yesterday - this was the passage I was led to: "The land will be empty of them and enjoy its Sabbaths while they're gone." Lev 26:43. Very funny! Really helpful for two reasons. #1 - it helps to look at this time apart as an enjoyable rest instead of a stripping away. #2 - it's very interesting to note that the Israelites had not been giving the land it's proper rest, nor have I been giving myself a proper "rest" from these family ways - which is part of the unhealth.

God is present. As close as the air I breath. I chose not to run from this sadness. Yet I also choose to keep my face to the light.

too many fish

2005-07-05T16:11:00.000-05:00

So many fishies in the bowl
swimming, swimming
fast in a circle
a small whirlpool is created
but nothing escapes
the bowl
try again tomorrow

Trusting Soul

2005-06-30T10:56:00.000-05:00

My fantastic friend Ruth has loaned me yet another fine book (she's the one who loaned my the Anne Lamott book). This one is by an Iowan named Brian Andreas. The book is Trusting Soul and is filled with drawings and poetry. I want to share a few of my favorites.

Listening for the Future

I'm on my way to the
future, she said & I
said, But you're just
sitting there listening
& she smiled & said,
It's harder than you'd
think with all the noise
everyone else is making

Before Dawn

I've always liked
the time before
dawn because there's
no one around to
remind me who I'm
supposed to be so it's
easier to remember
who I am.

Magic

this is a magical beast
that holds the secret of
lights & shadow in a
safe place in her heart
& when it has been too
long grey, she starts to
dance & laugh & cry & sing
& the sunlight fills her
up & spills in wild abandon
back into the world again

Soccer

What are the rules?
I said & he said you
run & you run & you
run until you fall
over. There's a couple
others in there for
variety, he added, but
that's the main one.

I think that I would rename this last one Life. At least that is the way I've lived it... up till now.

If you want more info their web address is www.storypeople.com

Family

2005-06-29T10:51:00.000-05:00

Monday evening was the Spiritual Direction summer potluck. We met to reconnect, review Ester de Waal's book "Pause at the Threshold", seek God together, be alone together. For me it was a family reunion. One that I wanted to go to. One that I was glad I had gone to.

Right now relations with my biological family are... (hmm, can't think of just the right word). Disconnected. Painful. Messed up. Unhealthy. Broken. Not there.

You see, I've been reading this subversive book by Cloud and Townsend called "Boundaries". I asked my family to have direct relationship with me, instead of "kind of" having relationship with me by finding out about me from another family member. I asked them not to talk about me with each other. These are not the only treasonous things I have done but these are the ones that have of late sealed my exclusion. They believe my requests to be unthinkable, unloving, un-Christ-like, selfish and hurtful. I believe my request to be reasonable, healthy, personally needed. We're at a bit of an impasse. They are hurting. So am I. Right now it is hard to see how this will get better.

So Monday's family reunion was a gift. I am not alone. I am provided for. I have family that loves and accepts me. I have family that allows me to take my own journey - wherever that may lead me. We together and alone seek God and celebrate that pursuit. Our time together was beautiful.

There was one sad note - two of my brothers were missing. Jeff O. and Dave S. - we missed you, you are a part of us.

Brain Freeze

2005-06-22T20:27:00.000-05:00

Sometimes we use the phrase "brain freeze" to refer to the sharp headache we get when we eat our ice cream too quickly. For me it has a second meaning.

You see, these Minnesota winters are so long and cold that I believe that small parts of my brain actually freeze over. One frozen part of my brain is the part that should remember what a sunburn feels like and how to actually avoid that feeling. But, alas, the injury is part of the cure. All that sweet hotness has scorched my fair skin but has also melted my frozen brain.

Here's to ice cream, popsicles, swimming pools, hot sun, and cool breezes. Oh yes, and a big spray can of Solarcaine. Happy summer to you!

New friends

2005-06-20T12:04:00.000-05:00

An ache of homesickness came over me, for our old life before Sam's
blood got funky, for the sweet functional surface of that life, for the stuff
and routine that hold me together, or at least that I believe hold me together.
That's the place I like to think of as reality. Maybe it's full of lusts and
hormones and yearnings for more, more, more, and maybe it is all about clutching
and holding and tightness, but I just love it to pieces and it was where I
wanted to be.

From Anne Lamott's book Traveling Mercies

They are the songs of a people who were moving away from a known situation
into the unknown, and they were often angry with a God who removed all those
certainties, who instead seemed to be leading them along an apparently
precarious path. They did not sit down for long beside gently flowing
streams or
linger in lush meadows. When we pray the psalms as they did, we,
too, are
compelled to stay "at the raw edge," in the words of Walter
Brueggemann.
There comes a time when the things that were undoubtedly good
and right in
the past must be left behind, for these is always the danger
that they might
hinder us from moving forward and connecting with the
one necessary thing,
Christ himself.
Insecurity makes certitude
attractive, and it is in times like these that I
want to harness God to my
preferred scheme of things, for it is risky to be so
vulnerable.

From Esther de Waal's book To Pause at the Threshold.

Esther and Anne are my new best friends. Esther lives on the border land between England and Wales - I'm moving there next week. (not really). Anne is naughty and funny and honest in all the best ways. Funny how God provides people and encouragement at just the right time, and these people don't always show up in the flesh. Some day I will meet these women - that will be sweet!

Junior

2005-06-14T15:55:00.000-05:00

We got to have an ultrasound for baby today. How wonderful. Pete was there and so where Livy and Gunnar. We had it done at the Northside Life Center in Minneapolis, the clinic that I have just now begun to go to for prenatal care. It was sort of like ultrasound lite. The technician is just learning the ropes and they don't get real technical - sort of just for funsies. And it was fun. It's nice to see that the baby has arms, legs, hands, feet, a little heart that beats, ... all the necessary equipment for life. It was punching around, moving those little tiny arms and legs. We got to bring some strange non-baby looking photos home. We were sooooo hoping to find out the sex but junior wouldn't cooperate, plus junior's a bit young for the exam anyway. We found out that according to the baby's size I'm probably almost 17 weeks instead of almost 18 weeks - I had guessed that was the case. So now we can expect to meet junior close to Thanksgiving Day.
I did find out that we will get the real ultrasound down at Fairview Riverside around 20 weeks. Hurrah! We would still love to find out the sex of the baby!

Baby Talk

2005-06-10T15:55:00.000-05:00

I promised to blind you with baby blather. I have not delivered! (tee hee) Let me rectify my gross negligence.

Seriously now. I am full of ambivalence about this baby experience. I have already had two babies yet as I look at a pregnant woman I am disconnected with her experience. Sometimes I see a pregnant woman and think, "Dang! She looks so uncomfortable!" Other times seeing a pregnant woman stirs up desire to experience that new life growing in me again. But now I am pregnant and I realize that I have forgotten so much.

1. My whole body is changing, not just my belly. (I could go into great detail here but will spare you that.)
2. I live with the wonder of new life growing in me - a real person being created in me - and the real possibility that this life won't make it - that this life might (and will, at some point) die. I am now bound to this life. I watch with amazement and fear. Who will this unique new person be? Will there be ten little fingers and ten little toes? Will the brain work well? Will I recognize the finger prints of God?
3. Maternity clothes stink. They are big and small in all the wrong places. Maternity bodies change weekly, so even if you manage to find a pair of pants that fit well, by next Thursday they won't. I think that maternity style should consist of large, hawaiian print moo-moos. At this moment I am wearing an old pair of shorts I use when I'm painting. It was all I could find that wasn't in the laundry, wasn't pajamas, wasn't too hot, and fit. Aaaarrrrgggh!
4. When Gunnar was born Olivia was nearly two. We loved her so much and couldn't imagine loving another little person as much as we loved her. But then Gunnar showed up and we did love him. It wasn't one bit hard. Olivia used to stand at my knees crying whenever I nursed Gunnar. It was difficult for her to understand what this new person was doing in her place, with her mommy. This time Olivia and Gunnar are aware and excited. They are constantly coming up with the most endearing and surprising thoughts about the baby. It's wonderful to share this experience with them. And yet... I find that I am grieving the loss of the four of us. Sometimes this new life is like a foreign invader, wrecking our nice little family, home and life. This summer is for me a celebration of the four of us - enjoying what we can do together and what we mean to each other. Sometimes I feel so sad about this change. But I'm guessing that once jr. shows up it won't be long before we won't be able to imagine life without him/her.

Thanks for listening. Your comments and experiences are welcome.

Order up!

2005-05-25T15:01:00.000-05:00

We have only three bedrooms. Pete and I share one (can you believe it?). That left one for each of our two little people. But now number 3 is on the way. Hmmm. What shall we do? Well in the old days people actually put more than one child in each bedroom - "What!? Is that legal?" I shared a room with my sister for most of my growing up years but it seemed absolutely wierd to bunk my two kids together. Olivia is seven (just) and Gunnar is five, not of the same gender. Even wierder. But it seemed the logical solution because Gunnar's room (downstairs) is much larger than Olivia's, whereas Olivia's smaller room is right next to our bedroom - convenient for those night-time feedings. We asked Olivia if she wanted to wait until the end of the summer to make the move but she said she wanted to do it now.

Wow. That was a lot of preamble. All of that to say that after the bunk bed was purchased, shelves made and painted and all of the toys sorted through and pared down, today, finally, the move is official. Whew! We finally have our family room back! Hurrah!

Not only that but I actually cleaned the downstairs bathroom! Plus, I'm part way into the upstairs bathroom with full commitment to finish once this blog is done. I had almost forgotten what a white toilet looked like (did that scare you?).

Order is once again returning to the Carlson household - at least in the cleanliness category.

Green

2005-05-24T15:39:00.000-05:00

Drink it in. Soak it up. I can't get enough. It's so good. Very, very good.

We went camping this weekend - all four and a half of us. We love to go to Ann Lake Campground up by Big Lake - Zimmerman. It's a state forest campground and it is rather primitive and woodsy and wonderful. I don't need running water (there's a pump) and I don't want a shower house, nor a pool (there's a tiny beach complete with many weeds and sand burrs). I don't even want a playground or fishing pier . To have these amenities you usually have to put up with crowds and noise and close quarters. I'm looking for nature and quiet and birds I've never seen before (we saw 2 different types). We went on hikes and the kids went "swimming" - which consisted of running in and out of the water. Mostly we just slowed down and spent a lot of time together. It rained Saturday morning and our tent didn't leak one bit - a great improvement over last years model. Pete took the kids fishing on Saturday afternoon while I enjoyed a fantastic nap! We love to cook on when we camp. Only lunches are prepackaged. For breakfast we cook up pancakes or french toast, bacon or sausage, and eggs. For supper we had steaks on the fire, mashed potatoes and green beans. It's fun and challenging to cook out there in the woods. Pete and I enjoy our little routine - why is it that doing the dishes is fun in the woods but hated in our house? Ah, who cares! Let's go camping!

Yesterday the weather was perfect and I worked in the garden the entire day. My aching muscles are the proof. After a long time of feeling pregnant sick it felt so good to work hard.

The chartreuse green of the new leaves and the wonderful smell of earth and new growth bring me alive. Thank you God for the gift of spring.

scrap quilting

2005-05-02T10:19:00.000-05:00

I love scrap quilts. God seems to piece together little scraps from here and there to create something bigger. A la this blog.

Chris Fossum has written a book with a subtitle something like this: "What if God designed your marriage to make you holy instead of happy." I'm intrigued! I get hung up on the word "holy". Too many old church connotations. So for my purposes today for the word holy I want to think of it in terms of wholeness, restoration, or becoming fully human, fully Christ-like. So with that in mind, what if everything in my life is God designed to bring about my growth, my restoration instead of just pleasing me or blessing me? So much to think about. So many places to apply this. This is patch #1.

For patch #2 I'm thinking about something pastor dave johnson said yesterday. We are currently talking about the gifts of the Spirit. One category of gifts is the office gifts. This gift is a person. A person given by God to the church for the purpose of equipping the saints for service. The authority the person holds is given by God, not self claimed authority nor given by position or other men. I kept thinking of Jesus while he was talking about this gift/office. Jesus was given to us by God. His authority was from God. And he came to lead and to serve and to show us how to live.

Patch #3 is really just a new patch made by combining patch #1 and #2. What if this pregnancy and this new baby aren't (just) for my blessing, for my happiness? What if this is all designed to make me whole? What if this sickness, this enlarging, this birthing are given to draw me into deeper dependence? What if that sweet new baby and those harsh, draining first few months aren't opposed to one another? What if both of them are given for my restoration? What if the baby isn't given to me, but instead I am given as a gift to the baby? Am I given the authority, the office of parenthood by God for the purpose of equipping these small saints for service, for life with God. Maybe I'm given to lead, to serve and to show them how to live.

Pete, my man, gleaned this quote from Jim Wallace of Sojourners off of a radio broadcast not long ago. "Your vocation is where your gift meets the crushing needs of the world." (Every time I read this I feel the need to pause for a minute of silence.) Sometimes as I look at the crushing needs of the world I want to throw my hands up in despair and say, "It's just too big! What can I do that would even matter?" But the other side of this coin is so hopeful. I don't have to do it all. We are the body. We, each of us, have a gift to give. I can give my gift.

Right now my world in a lot of ways is rather small. I'm a stay at home mom taking care of this home and these little people. But any of you who have cared for brand new people or little people know that their needs at times become crushing. I am in need of the Spirit's gifting. I think God might think this office is really important. I am so grateful that my God is lavish in his gift giving.

Unpopular Opinion

2005-04-24T13:38:00.000-05:00

During worship today I communed with God. We sang about nature and his majesty. He named the stars. My heart laughed that this immense creator lives within me! I imagined the two of us looking up at the stars. I was asking him, "What's that one's name?" He was telling me the answers. We're that close.

Then we sang: one thing I ask and I would seek to see your beauty - to find you in the place your glory dwells. I thought of this new one growing in me. This new person is being created to be the dwelling place of pure glory, majestic might, creative love, all things good. Right now as I breathe and move this little life is being formed to hold the One who forms him or her. How can the created contain the creator? This is too wonderful to comprehend - yet it is so.

I am learning more and more of how precious I am to him. He came to earth to buy me back. I gave all he could give to buy me back. He let them tear his skin and his heart. He let them ridicule and degrade him. He did this for me, for us, because we are his bride.

Back at our beginning God breathed his life into the dust and created adam - dust man. We have always been God-breathed, image bearers, friends of the almighty, children for God. God created many animals but we were not animals. We are something else altogether.

I agree with John Eldrige. He says that we aren't afraid of our darkness but rather we are afraid of our glory. We have had many charismatic speakers at our church. I wouldn't say that Ken Fong was the most charismatic of speakers but he received one of the most charismatic responses from the congregation that I have ever seen. And what was his message? We are all Rats! He said that we all try to walk around in our squirrel suits pretending to be cute and non-rodent-like when really we have all sinned and are all really rats. It's an old hook. I grew up with this particular lie and I know of it's insidiousness. What's really so sad is that in all my years of rat living my love for others never grew. I saw myself as a rat, for sure. And yes, I classified my type of ratness as better than other's nastier ratness. But the answer wasn't to see my ratness as filthy and nasty as their ratness. I did try that. It doesn't work.

I have invited Christ into my posturing and into my lack of love for others. My core problem was my own lack of self love. I didn't love myself because I didn't feel loved by God. I thought that God saw me as a huge disappointment - not too different than a rat! I came across the verse in Ephesians that talks about being rooted and established in love. I've been asking for that. God, grow my roots deep in your soil of love. Establish me strong and secure in love. This slow process has an outflowing of awareness both of his loving posture toward me and of his loving posture toward others. I really highly doubt that the Father would have sent the son to die for rats - that's preposterous! He sent his son to die for the image bearers of God. Yes, we were dead in our sins but we were never rats. The verse that Fong used referred to our righteousness being as filthy rags. Notice that the verse doesn't say we are as filthy rags - it's our righteousness that's worthless, not us. God values us greatly!

Is it easier to believe that we are all rats or that we are all full of His Glory? When we see someone degraded by drugs, sex, money or power it is awfully difficult to see their glory, to see His glory in them. But I don't have to go to the obviously degraded places see the unlovely. I can look around my church or neighborhood and have a hard time seeing lovely, loveable, valuable beings. My abililty to hate and despise floors me. But God is changing me. As I have begun to accept his love for me I have begun to see others with that same love. I used to look my church and see brokenness. Lately I've begun to see dearly loved ones. Many, many dwelling places of God.

"Who of you knows that they are a rat?" Not me Mr. Fong, not me. I occasionally exhibit ratlike behavior but my heart is good. I have been made new. I am the dwelling place of the Almighty. God doesn't dwell in rats!

compost

2005-04-20T15:21:00.000-05:00

Spring is here. The garden is coming alive. I love to go out and see what made it through another cruel winter. I love planning on what to add this year and how to fill in the spots where plants didn't make it.
This is also the time of year that I place the empty ice cream pail on the kitchen counter and we begin to collect things for the compost pile. I love collecting compost. I love seeing the pail fill up with egg shells and tea bags, orange peels and apple cores, wilted lettuce or a remembered-too-late plum. I love thinking about all the vitamins and minerals I am adding back into my garden.
I think that all Pete thinks about is how gross it all looks and how much he dislikes the fruit flies we have to battle all summer.
I'm not actually all that good at producing really good compost. I can add all of the ingredients but I usually don't turn it and water it often enough. That's kind of a big job that's usually moldy, slimy or smelly and often involves scraped knuckles. I always laugh when I see advertisements for composters that turn out stuff that looks like actual soil - yeah right! My dream is to have one of those double barrel composters that you turn with a crank. It would be so nice to have two stages of composted material and the ease of turning the whole mess with a handle.
This summer the handle I will be turning will be attached to the end of a shovel. So why do I bother? It is so gratifying to see grass clippings, fallen leaves and kitchen scraps turn into something else. Something dark and lumpy with hunks of eggshell still clearly recognizable - but still something new and good.

Tonight

2005-04-19T18:54:00.000-05:00

Lately I am reduced.
Tonight I found community in blog land.

Thank you God. Thank you so much.

Gotta love Henri

2005-04-19T18:23:00.000-05:00

"We fail to see the place of suffering in the broader scheme of things. We fail to see that suffering is an inevitable dimension of life. Because we have lost perspective, we fail to see that unless one is willing to accept suffering properly, he or she is really refusing to continue in the quest for maturity. To refuse suffering is to refuse personal growth." -Henri J. M. Nouwen

to be willing to accept suffering properly... just how does one do that? What does that mean? I mean, really, what does that mean?

I'm miserable. This really sucks. I want to get up and fold laundry or vacuum or get something done. Damn, this is so hard. I know well how to suffer poorly, but I don't know what it means to suffer properly.

I feel like I'm eroding. My topsoil is washing away.

Death

2005-04-13T17:18:00.000-05:00

We're so afraid of death. And it comes in so many shapes and sizes.

I talked with my dad today. He's dying. Three and a half years ago he was diagnosed with MSA (Multiple Systems Atrophy). It means that multiple systems in his brain are shrinking. His particular MSA looks like Parkinson's disease - he shakes and shuffles and has trouble swallowing, etc. My dad is being stripped of his dignity - he feels humiliated. He also feels ignored. That's because we've been ignoring him. I rarely call. I rarely see him. He only lives 25 minutes from my place but being with him is difficult. All the rules have changed. He usually tries to make light of all that's going on - in hopes of covering over his embarrassment. But today I called. And I asked the hard questions, like, "How are you doing emotionally?" It wasn't long before my dad was sobbing into the phone. And then I was. He talked about the embarrassment, the fatigue, the night terrors. He told me that mom is reading to him each night out of a book about the new heaven and the new earth, but we very carefully danced around the word death. I talked with him about how hard it was to be with him and how I wasn't sure how to treat him or what to say. He said, "Sometimes I just need someone to cry with."

So we cried. Together.

Everyone in the family tries so hard to avoid this pain, this death. Pretend. Cover over. We start fights with each other to distract us from this present dark place.

Lead us on, Lead us on,
Into the darkest places, lead us on.

Spirit come, Spirit come,
Into our darkest places, lead us on.

Dad said I could call him any time I want to cry. I'm hoping to do that again soon.

nausea ad nauseum

2005-04-09T10:06:00.000-05:00

With my first two pregnancies I fought my "morning" sickness. Despair reigned. Food and sleep were my comforters. I lived somewhere out in the future.

Did you know that time does not go any faster even if you wish really hard that it would?

So with this pregnancy I really wanted to invite God to be with me. I wanted to apply new ways of "being" with myself and others to this new circumstance. To surrender. My friend Jan had mentioned something about some nuns who were letting their illnesses be practice for death. I desire that. Life in death, death in life - weird.

As I press in I hear God say, "Be present to this moment." Simple. Hard. Very, very hard. My old habits of lashing about, fighting, choosing desparation in hopes of getting out of this great discomfort die hard.

please pass the blog jam

2005-04-06T09:37:00.000-05:00

"Would you like some toast with that?"

There is something newly present to me. It's in my face, taking up all of the available thought space. And I'm not sharing it with you. I've been wanting to keep it private - not expose my secret obsession.

But that gives me a new problem. Not sharing this large life thing has made me pull back from sharing much of anything. Sometimes I like to convince myself that I am made up of little compartments. The evidence shows that I am really much more like a body of water, a bowl of dough (hey, don't take that too far!), a human person -- something integrated, interconnected. This secret part affects my other parts - a little yeast and all.

So here it is. I'm pregnant. Surprise! (It certainly was for us!) Get ready for blog after blog of pregnancy related blather. Hopefully this will clear up this bad case of blog jam. We be jammin', we be jammin', hey hey!

Of course this makes me wonder about you. and me. in the larger community. I'm wondering about fear of exposing our secret obsessions and how that affects us, affects our willingness to "enter in". Of course we don't have to tell everyone everything but sometimes we become frightened hedgehogs, turning in upon ourselves, hiding. What are we afraid of? What has our experience of community been? My friend Jan described community as "solid". Solid?!? Wow! Her perspective gives me hope. Could a community actually be a place that could help me to stay open to God in places of pain, discomfort, uncertainty? I kept my secret not because I was afraid to share my joy but because I am afraid to share my pain. My experience is that people get weird about other's pain. So to alleviate my own community fears I want to say this: I invite you to be with me - I neither want nor need you to fix this experience for me - which is sure to be filled with both joy and pain. (I still welcome your comments!)

blog log-jam

2005-04-02T10:27:00.000-06:00

I need to blog more often. Not because I should but because the longer I wait the more blog ideas get mixed up in tangled nests in my head. Aaaarrrgghh! Maybe I'll post twice today.

This particular blog has been stewing since Sunday. It got tangled with a Psalm yesterday - let's start there and work backwards.

Psalm 8 A David Psalm
God, brilliant Lord, yours is a household name.

Nursing infants gurgle choruses about you; toddlers shout the songs that drown out enemy talk, and silence atheist babble.

I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous, your handmade sky-jewelry, moon and stars mounted in their settings. Then I look at my micro-self and wonder, why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way?

Yet we've so narrowly missed being gods, bright with Eden's dawn light. You put us in charge of your handcrafted world, repeated to us your Genesis-charge, made us lords of sheep and cattle, even animals out in the wild, birds flying and fish swimming, whales singing in the ocean deeps.

God, brilliant Lord, your name echoes around the world.

O.K. so I added the italics- but that's the question that's been resounding within since Sunday. Why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way?
And now here is part of the text from Sunday's service:

And they sang a new song:
Worthy! Take the scroll, open its seal.
Slain! Paying in blood, you bought men and women,
Bought them back from all over the earth,
Bought them back for God.
Then you made them a Kingdom,
Priests for our God,
Priest-kings to rule over the earth.
Revelation 5: 8-10

There we were on Sunday, coming freshly out of our remembrance of his death, his suffering, his sacrifice, now celebrating his resurrection, his victory, his worthiness! And my heart broke (or did it take flight) that he did all that for US?! What does he see in us?! What unwarranted love! I've been reveling in my boughtness, caughtness, my loved-for-no-good-reason status.

The slain Lamb is worthy!
Take the power, the wealth, the wisdom, the strength!
Take the honor, the glory, the blessing!

Lenten Freedom

2005-03-28T09:14:00.000-06:00

So I fasted from sugar for lent. This is the first time I've fasted from anything during lent. So I wondered what it would... unearth? At first all I noticed was how much I missed sugar, how excutiating it was to smell chocolate or fresh-baked rolls. I decided to place scripture in sugar's old spot - get a belly full of God.

As the days rolled on the sugar tension eased and some questions started to rise up. What was is like for Jesus to enter into this wilderness experience? Was fasting something he'd practiced? Did he intend to fast from food or was he simply dependent on what the Father was providing and food currently wasn't provided?

I also noticed that fasting from sugar for the sake of knowing Christ was far different that fasting from sugar for the sake of my pants size. My motivation and my internal dialogue was different.

As Easter began to draw near I noticed a sense of freedom. Pete and I have been considering some food changes in our household - this time for the sake of our brains. These changes include cutting out sugar and simple carbs. As I began this fast I couldn't wait to get back to eating sugar. Now I find that sugar's hold on me has greatly decreased. Before this lenten experience considering food changes would have been quite difficult. I did partake in sugar on Sunday but it didn't thrill me. What thrilled me was knowing that my Hope is alive.

So I'm wondering... what else? Sugar was a god in my life. There are others. "Wow, I couldn't really imagine living without that." What things do I think that about? Maybe there's freedom beyond those as well. You think?

Restoration

2005-03-07T09:40:00.000-06:00

Restoration
comes
to
those
long
devastated.

Judy Hougen spoke those words yesterday during her sermon. They rang within me. I repeated them over and over hoping to remember them, hoping to impress them on my heart, hoping for hope.

I am waking up. I am beginning to see new things. I am being called out of passivity and death into life. I am being transformed. I am finding out who He is and who I am. But there is so much new-ness. As the wind of God blows in my life I am experiencing the waves of resistance. Today I feel like the boat is swamped and we might be going down.

I've been waking each morning with the sense of being overwhelmed, behind, "under it". Today it was there again but I invited God into all of these places. I even invited him into the ways I have been escaping and trying to soothe these aches. I'm not sure what will happen from here. Perhaps today will be a day of tears.

This coming alive is painful.

Culture Culture

2005-02-24T09:35:00.000-06:00

The tools of our trade aren't for marketing or manipulation, but they are for demolishing that entire massively corrupt culture. We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. Our tools are ready at hand for clearing the ground of every obstruction and building lives of obedience into maturity. 2 Cor 10:4

The Corinthians brought their massively corrupt culture into their church. Our culture is also massively corrupt. Hmmm....

I'm guessing that there are ways we are doing the same. I'm personally feeling called to humility. Less to a "storm the gates" posture and more toward a quiet, listening, dependent posture. Not in passivity but with intention.