Naturally, the one vacation I decide not to bring my journal, since I haven't used it the last few times, I really wish I had. So, I'm blogging instead.
We got into Florida last night and down to the keys today. Finally to our condo this afternoon. What a long drive! The first two days were fine, but after about two hours today, we were all going a little nutty.
Over all, though, the drive was interesting. I loved driving through the mountains in Kentucky, seeing the deep gorges and the villages in them. I wanted to stop at the places where they cut through the rock to lay the road. The rock faces were absolutely beautiful. I could have stood and studied the various lines and colors and textures for hours. There were even some with small water falls coming out of them. It was also cloudy that day, so some of the mountain tops disappeared in the clouds and wisps of clouds floated past our van as well. I wanted to get out and stand on the edges and yell down into the valleys to see if it would echo. But, we needed to keep driving. Perhaps that could be another vacation.
It was neat to see the red dirt in Georgia, and even the vegetation here is so different than what we have at home. I love the moss trees - they give the same mood as our weeping willows, but with a softer feel. And of course the palm trees are fun and somewhat whimsical. There are a couple coconut trees down on the beech here, we've talked about buying one down the road and seeing if we can crack it open.
The resort here is amazing - very nice! Our place has two rooms - a bedroom with two queen beds and a living/kitchen room. Two bathrooms and a deck out each room that overlooks the pool area and the beach and the ocean. We'll go out tomorrow and get groceries so we can eat breakfasts and lunches in the room.
We walked around a little bit and I think I could probably just walk around all week and explore and be perfectly happy. The beach area isn't very sandy - it's more made up of broken coral and shell pieces, which makes it even better. We saw two jelly fish that had washed up and one of them had light orange veins running through it - it was very pretty. Saw several blue man-o-wars all ballooned up. Those don't facinate me as much, though. The piles of shells and shell pieces could keep me occupied for days. I'm so weird that way, I guess. There are pieces of things wrapped in the seaweed as well. Pieces of brain coral and clam shell and periwinkle shells and tiger shells and all the rest - too fun. We even found a piece of sponge that was quite nice. The patterns on the shells are endless and I would love to have time to look at every one of them. My guess is that while the kids swim in the pool, I'll be at the water, just bent over looking.
Although, I do look forward to getting in the water again as well. I love swimming and the pool is heated and pretty big.
I could go on, but April wants a turn with the computer and Nathan wants his bed set up.
Hopefully I'll write again tomorrow night.
Goodnight.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Outdoor Delights
Today's hike through the woods and weeds was a good one. The weather couldn't be more perfect if I had ordered it myself.
I got pooped on by a bird, perching on a branch overhead. Which was a kind of nature's revenge, I guess, for waking and scaring off a deer. The deer seemed hesitant to leave the area. I wondered if it was just because I had woken her, or if she had recently birthed a fawn nearby. I wandered the area for a bit, though to find a fawn in those dried-leaf, sun-dappled woods would have been next to impossible anyway. That's when the bird decided to christen me - urging me to move on, which I did.
I hauled an old copper basin out and hid it by the road for later pick-up. It probably won't get me much, but along with the other copper items I have gathered, it may pay for a breakfast at The Galley this weekend in St. Ignace.
The golden rod is in full bloom right now, and I was able to wade through a few patches of it down by Black Creek. It's one of those poetic things you always imagining yourself doing in a long flowing gown, when in reality, your legs would be scratched to pieces if you were to try it. Jeans and hiking boots worked just fine, turns out.
I also discovered that turkey vultures are very allured or annoyed by someone lying in an open grassy field, practicing grass-whistling techniques. It probably didn't help that my red shirt was crumpled up on the grass beside me. I probably looked and sounded like a dying animal of sorts. There were probably about 7 of them circling above me. I imagine they were rather disappointed to see me get up and walk away. I had a pretty good laugh over that one.
Nothing is really blooming yet in the woods themselves. A few violets are making an early go of it, but nothing else, really. There was a light green frail vine-type thing growing all-over the ground. It was kind of wispy and looked as if it would be very good to eat. Also - no morel mushrooms.
The sky is so blue and so perfect today. I think maybe I'll take my sewing machine out on to the deck and work on the fabric for the pergola out there. May as well enjoy every minute of the day.
I got pooped on by a bird, perching on a branch overhead. Which was a kind of nature's revenge, I guess, for waking and scaring off a deer. The deer seemed hesitant to leave the area. I wondered if it was just because I had woken her, or if she had recently birthed a fawn nearby. I wandered the area for a bit, though to find a fawn in those dried-leaf, sun-dappled woods would have been next to impossible anyway. That's when the bird decided to christen me - urging me to move on, which I did.
I hauled an old copper basin out and hid it by the road for later pick-up. It probably won't get me much, but along with the other copper items I have gathered, it may pay for a breakfast at The Galley this weekend in St. Ignace.
The golden rod is in full bloom right now, and I was able to wade through a few patches of it down by Black Creek. It's one of those poetic things you always imagining yourself doing in a long flowing gown, when in reality, your legs would be scratched to pieces if you were to try it. Jeans and hiking boots worked just fine, turns out.
I also discovered that turkey vultures are very allured or annoyed by someone lying in an open grassy field, practicing grass-whistling techniques. It probably didn't help that my red shirt was crumpled up on the grass beside me. I probably looked and sounded like a dying animal of sorts. There were probably about 7 of them circling above me. I imagine they were rather disappointed to see me get up and walk away. I had a pretty good laugh over that one.
Nothing is really blooming yet in the woods themselves. A few violets are making an early go of it, but nothing else, really. There was a light green frail vine-type thing growing all-over the ground. It was kind of wispy and looked as if it would be very good to eat. Also - no morel mushrooms.
The sky is so blue and so perfect today. I think maybe I'll take my sewing machine out on to the deck and work on the fabric for the pergola out there. May as well enjoy every minute of the day.
Friday, May 15, 2009
A Good Place
All three of my posted writings today were actually written last July - all on one night. Proof that flights of fancy and letting your mind wander is not necessarily a bad thing.
A Good Place
Awake again.
Not so much questioning
This time.
No challenges of defiance
Or raised fists of anger.
But just a silent wonder
Of restored faith -
And hope.
Believing once again
That You are in control
And You know what You're doing.
Remembering that this rat race
Is more like a conducted symphony
To You.
I rest for a moment
In the fact of brighter days
To come.
A good place to be.
A Good Place
Awake again.
Not so much questioning
This time.
No challenges of defiance
Or raised fists of anger.
But just a silent wonder
Of restored faith -
And hope.
Believing once again
That You are in control
And You know what You're doing.
Remembering that this rat race
Is more like a conducted symphony
To You.
I rest for a moment
In the fact of brighter days
To come.
A good place to be.
A poem
No title - does poetry really need them?
Do you remember that time you almost -
Ach! But then you backed away.
Were you afraid?
I guess we both were.
Standing at the brink of freedom,
Not realizing how this giant ball
Hurdling us through space
Could have bumped us over the edge
At any given moment.
Do you ever wonder what life
Would have been like?
The road not taken and all.
Maybe we should have done it -
Embraced everything they said was foolish
And like the children we were,
Jumped with abandon toward that place
Past mediocrity.
Risky business, that.
Do you remember that time you almost -
Ach! But then you backed away.
Were you afraid?
I guess we both were.
Standing at the brink of freedom,
Not realizing how this giant ball
Hurdling us through space
Could have bumped us over the edge
At any given moment.
Do you ever wonder what life
Would have been like?
The road not taken and all.
Maybe we should have done it -
Embraced everything they said was foolish
And like the children we were,
Jumped with abandon toward that place
Past mediocrity.
Risky business, that.
Blemishes
A sincere apology to those who may check on my blog from time to time - I have not posted anything new in a while and have probably left you with the impression that some weird fear of being watched has now gripped me and caused a stalemate of sorts. This is not so.
Once again, living life has trumped blogging about it, as it should, and has therefore caused delay in my thinking and writing and posting. I beg your forgiveness and offer new words as reward. Enjoy.
Blemishes
I've got this bump
Right under my nose.
I've been sitting here picking at it,
Though it hurts to do so.
I should just let it be,
But it's on my face.
And I've been thinking about it
All day -
Worrying that people will see it,
Feeling self conscious
And a bit ugly.
Powerful bump that is -
Able to downgrade my social status
To "Less than perfect",
At least in my own mind.
It's just a small bump, really -
Dwarfed by my nose and lips and eyes -
And the way my face is arranged
That allows others to identify me.
If others even noticed it, they would say,
"She has a little bump on her face today."
And not think a thing of it.
But for me, today,
It defined me -
It was huge and obvious
And embarrassing.
Strange how we sometimes identify ourselves
By our blemishes.
Once again, living life has trumped blogging about it, as it should, and has therefore caused delay in my thinking and writing and posting. I beg your forgiveness and offer new words as reward. Enjoy.
Blemishes
I've got this bump
Right under my nose.
I've been sitting here picking at it,
Though it hurts to do so.
I should just let it be,
But it's on my face.
And I've been thinking about it
All day -
Worrying that people will see it,
Feeling self conscious
And a bit ugly.
Powerful bump that is -
Able to downgrade my social status
To "Less than perfect",
At least in my own mind.
It's just a small bump, really -
Dwarfed by my nose and lips and eyes -
And the way my face is arranged
That allows others to identify me.
If others even noticed it, they would say,
"She has a little bump on her face today."
And not think a thing of it.
But for me, today,
It defined me -
It was huge and obvious
And embarrassing.
Strange how we sometimes identify ourselves
By our blemishes.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Watched
Today's blog is purely for me with no regard to anyone who may be reading it. Readers beware.
I've always felt in a way that someone was always watching me. Even when I was young I remember feeling this way. As a young girl I remember playing outside wondering who could see me. As a teenager, I often imagined there was someone in my bedroom closet - witnessing my most difficult moments - seeing my tears of adolescence, looking over my shoulder as I would journal or wrote my poetry. Usually in those times it was a handsome young man - admiring my secret passions - waiting to comfort me and tell me that he saw and understood all the secret parts of my heart and thought they were wonderful.
At times, I've fancied my watcher to be God himself - watching his daughter and smiling - admiring her heart and her thoughts as they sought to run and fly beyond the confines of her human existence.
This feeling of being watched is especially strong when I'm alone. And sometimes I imagine I'm watching a movie of myself - watching me go through my day - and somehow the watcher knows all the thoughts and feelings that each look, each action portrays. And it is all larger than life - more important and significant than the laundry I am folding, deeper than the errands I am running.
When I walk in the woods, my watcher is always there. Sometimes I talk with him. It must look like insanity to anyone else. But to me, it is a sweetness.
Sometimes the feeling of being watched is so strong, that I look around nearly expecting to find someone there. Maybe this does make me insane, who knows. Or maybe everybody feels this way sometimes. It's not really something you'd bring up in conversation.
I really don't know where this even comes from. I don't know much about guardian angels - or if this is what is feels like to be in the presence of God all the time. Maybe it's some egotistical desire that I've fed since childhood that goes beyond narcissism. Maybe it's an over awareness of self that causes me to live too much of my life in my own mind. I honestly don't know what it is or where it comes from. But I know it's there.
Sometimes, I'll catch Doug just looking at me - or watching me. It is a great kindness to my heart. I see a brightness in his eyes and a smile at the corners of his mouth. It is like a balm of healing to my soul. And I'll ask him, "What are you doing?" and he'll say, "just looking at you." It is one of the best things in the whole world.
Maybe that's how our kids feel when we watch them - really watch them - and see them, and smile. Maybe I do need to think of God watching me all the time - and that he'll keep the things he created in me that no one ever sees - he'll see them and keep them in his heart for all eternity. Maybe it's the need to be celebrated as a life. Not because I'm wonderful, or great - or anything out of the ordinary. Just alive. Maybe it's the thought that feelings and thoughts and the depths of our hearts and minds are really too grand and huge and wonderful for this world - and that those are being seen and acknowledged as such. Maybe it's the wonder that God sees everything we don't. That there are insects deep in a jungle of some far off place just doing what they were created to do - and that makes God smile - that he celebrates even the most hidden of moments of thought and emotion as an extension bursting with the life that He knows himself to be. Maybe it's the sense that nothing is too small to be missed or overlooked - as if I could even see the cells on my arm creating new skin cells - a daily exchange that is truly amazing.
It's the thought that every rock in my driveway has a history - that each one was formed somewhere on this earth by various earthen materials that took thousands of years to form, and layer and mix. And that I can hold it in my hand, knowing there is not another like it on the planet.
Maybe I feel like I'm being watched, because I am always watching. People, nature, growth, change. It's all too wonder full. It is too good to miss. So maybe that's just it. Maybe it's just that I feel that life should be watched, observed, wondered at and celebrated. And if I feel that way - being small and sinful, I imagine God probably feels that way magnified beyond what I can imagine. He can see the cells forming within a mother's body. He can orchestrate gasses and unknown matter to come together and produce light in a new star that we can't even see. I greatly envy him that.
So maybe my being watched all the time thing isn't so bad. Although I find I can spend ridiculous amounts of time alone and really, it doesn't bother me at all. I'd probably make a pretty fair hermit. It's still kind of weird, I guess. But, then again, I've pretty much given up on the chance that I'm anything like normal - if there is such a thing.
I've always felt in a way that someone was always watching me. Even when I was young I remember feeling this way. As a young girl I remember playing outside wondering who could see me. As a teenager, I often imagined there was someone in my bedroom closet - witnessing my most difficult moments - seeing my tears of adolescence, looking over my shoulder as I would journal or wrote my poetry. Usually in those times it was a handsome young man - admiring my secret passions - waiting to comfort me and tell me that he saw and understood all the secret parts of my heart and thought they were wonderful.
At times, I've fancied my watcher to be God himself - watching his daughter and smiling - admiring her heart and her thoughts as they sought to run and fly beyond the confines of her human existence.
This feeling of being watched is especially strong when I'm alone. And sometimes I imagine I'm watching a movie of myself - watching me go through my day - and somehow the watcher knows all the thoughts and feelings that each look, each action portrays. And it is all larger than life - more important and significant than the laundry I am folding, deeper than the errands I am running.
When I walk in the woods, my watcher is always there. Sometimes I talk with him. It must look like insanity to anyone else. But to me, it is a sweetness.
Sometimes the feeling of being watched is so strong, that I look around nearly expecting to find someone there. Maybe this does make me insane, who knows. Or maybe everybody feels this way sometimes. It's not really something you'd bring up in conversation.
I really don't know where this even comes from. I don't know much about guardian angels - or if this is what is feels like to be in the presence of God all the time. Maybe it's some egotistical desire that I've fed since childhood that goes beyond narcissism. Maybe it's an over awareness of self that causes me to live too much of my life in my own mind. I honestly don't know what it is or where it comes from. But I know it's there.
Sometimes, I'll catch Doug just looking at me - or watching me. It is a great kindness to my heart. I see a brightness in his eyes and a smile at the corners of his mouth. It is like a balm of healing to my soul. And I'll ask him, "What are you doing?" and he'll say, "just looking at you." It is one of the best things in the whole world.
Maybe that's how our kids feel when we watch them - really watch them - and see them, and smile. Maybe I do need to think of God watching me all the time - and that he'll keep the things he created in me that no one ever sees - he'll see them and keep them in his heart for all eternity. Maybe it's the need to be celebrated as a life. Not because I'm wonderful, or great - or anything out of the ordinary. Just alive. Maybe it's the thought that feelings and thoughts and the depths of our hearts and minds are really too grand and huge and wonderful for this world - and that those are being seen and acknowledged as such. Maybe it's the wonder that God sees everything we don't. That there are insects deep in a jungle of some far off place just doing what they were created to do - and that makes God smile - that he celebrates even the most hidden of moments of thought and emotion as an extension bursting with the life that He knows himself to be. Maybe it's the sense that nothing is too small to be missed or overlooked - as if I could even see the cells on my arm creating new skin cells - a daily exchange that is truly amazing.
It's the thought that every rock in my driveway has a history - that each one was formed somewhere on this earth by various earthen materials that took thousands of years to form, and layer and mix. And that I can hold it in my hand, knowing there is not another like it on the planet.
Maybe I feel like I'm being watched, because I am always watching. People, nature, growth, change. It's all too wonder full. It is too good to miss. So maybe that's just it. Maybe it's just that I feel that life should be watched, observed, wondered at and celebrated. And if I feel that way - being small and sinful, I imagine God probably feels that way magnified beyond what I can imagine. He can see the cells forming within a mother's body. He can orchestrate gasses and unknown matter to come together and produce light in a new star that we can't even see. I greatly envy him that.
So maybe my being watched all the time thing isn't so bad. Although I find I can spend ridiculous amounts of time alone and really, it doesn't bother me at all. I'd probably make a pretty fair hermit. It's still kind of weird, I guess. But, then again, I've pretty much given up on the chance that I'm anything like normal - if there is such a thing.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Of Crutches and Backbones
A couple nights ago I was praying before bed - asking God to help me and give me wisdom in a couple situations I was dealing with. I wanted to know how to act/react to what was going on.
God's answer surprised me.
He said, "Carrie, why don't you stop using me as a crutch and let me be your backbone instead?"
Huh?
So we talked about it a little more.
Apparently, I've been using my own wisdom to deal with issues again. I'm pretty intelligent, but intelligence isn't as good as truth. So things don't always work out quite right. My intelligent response still causes a bit of drama, it seems. And then I need a crutch. I beg God's help to get me through the situation. I seek truth a bit too late.
What if I just let Truth speak for itself? What if it was the backbone of the situation? What if, the next time a situation presents itself - I simply step forward into it with Truth not as the afterthought, but as the first thought? Simply stated, Truth does speak for itself. All I'm asked to do is say the words. Backbone words.
It does seem to be a better way to go. Crutches are fun for a little while - but pretty soon you get sick of needing them.
God's answer surprised me.
He said, "Carrie, why don't you stop using me as a crutch and let me be your backbone instead?"
Huh?
So we talked about it a little more.
Apparently, I've been using my own wisdom to deal with issues again. I'm pretty intelligent, but intelligence isn't as good as truth. So things don't always work out quite right. My intelligent response still causes a bit of drama, it seems. And then I need a crutch. I beg God's help to get me through the situation. I seek truth a bit too late.
What if I just let Truth speak for itself? What if it was the backbone of the situation? What if, the next time a situation presents itself - I simply step forward into it with Truth not as the afterthought, but as the first thought? Simply stated, Truth does speak for itself. All I'm asked to do is say the words. Backbone words.
It does seem to be a better way to go. Crutches are fun for a little while - but pretty soon you get sick of needing them.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Weeds
I was just out pulling a few weeds in the backyard. After the rains, the ground is very soft and gives way to pulling out the roots quite easily. Sure makes pulling weeds less work.
It makes me think of the two ways to get rid of weeds – aside from spraying them with pesticides. You can pull the thing out – root and all. Or, you can keep chopping off any growth above the surface, and eventually the root will die from lack of nutrients from the sun.
I guess the same goes for the sin in my life. There are times the Spirit comes and pulls something out of my life – root and all. It can be a painful experience – especially when the ground around it is hardened and dry. The process disturbs a lot of area and it takes a while until things get settled back down. Sometimes God softens the ground of my life with rain first. That is sometimes in the form of his overwhelming love – and sometimes in the form of raging storms that also bring the much needed rain.
Other times God just tells me to stay away from something – or not to do something I know I shouldn’t. Not giving in to a certain sin repeatedly does cause the desire for it to die out eventually. It’s a longer process and requires me to depend on God’s strength more to be obedient in the times of temptation.
Weeding isn’t fun. But to see a whole area well planted with no weeds is a beautiful thing. I’m thankful God is a vigilant caretaker in my life.
It makes me think of the two ways to get rid of weeds – aside from spraying them with pesticides. You can pull the thing out – root and all. Or, you can keep chopping off any growth above the surface, and eventually the root will die from lack of nutrients from the sun.
I guess the same goes for the sin in my life. There are times the Spirit comes and pulls something out of my life – root and all. It can be a painful experience – especially when the ground around it is hardened and dry. The process disturbs a lot of area and it takes a while until things get settled back down. Sometimes God softens the ground of my life with rain first. That is sometimes in the form of his overwhelming love – and sometimes in the form of raging storms that also bring the much needed rain.
Other times God just tells me to stay away from something – or not to do something I know I shouldn’t. Not giving in to a certain sin repeatedly does cause the desire for it to die out eventually. It’s a longer process and requires me to depend on God’s strength more to be obedient in the times of temptation.
Weeding isn’t fun. But to see a whole area well planted with no weeds is a beautiful thing. I’m thankful God is a vigilant caretaker in my life.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Who Knows?
I think that there is a part of us, as humans, that needs to be known. There is a part in each of us that desires to be seen, and known and approved of, by other humans. I think that is a big part of the draw to Twitter and Facebook and MySpace. They allow you to connect with other people and allows you to be, quite safely, known to others. What you are doing and what you think can be put out there for anyone to see. And really, how good does it feel when someone comments on your status? Isn't that an approval of sorts? Someone is showing interest in you.
We weren't created to just live and exist on our own. We were created for community. And we sometimes become quite driven to be seen, and known.
I think that when we consider ourselves to be known - by a person, or perhaps even God - and we are accepted, we are freed to become someone with eyes that look naturally beyond ourselves. We are filled to a point where we are no longer driven by the need to be known. Our focus is allowed to wander - even charged with an energy to apply our fullness to the world around us. We can invest who we have become known to be into those who themselves are seeking to be known.
The opposite of "known-ness" is loneliness. And we are perpetually in a state of one or the other.
We are created in the likeness of God. And a desire to be known, I think, is part of that. For us, it's a need - for him, it's a joy. He delights in us wanting to know him. We breathe in life in those moments we realize that he knows us.
Sometimes it's hard to let down the walls we've created to protect ourselves, and allow ourselves to be known - even to God. But I think today is a good day to maybe just peek over the wall and at least allow Him to see my face.
We weren't created to just live and exist on our own. We were created for community. And we sometimes become quite driven to be seen, and known.
I think that when we consider ourselves to be known - by a person, or perhaps even God - and we are accepted, we are freed to become someone with eyes that look naturally beyond ourselves. We are filled to a point where we are no longer driven by the need to be known. Our focus is allowed to wander - even charged with an energy to apply our fullness to the world around us. We can invest who we have become known to be into those who themselves are seeking to be known.
The opposite of "known-ness" is loneliness. And we are perpetually in a state of one or the other.
We are created in the likeness of God. And a desire to be known, I think, is part of that. For us, it's a need - for him, it's a joy. He delights in us wanting to know him. We breathe in life in those moments we realize that he knows us.
Sometimes it's hard to let down the walls we've created to protect ourselves, and allow ourselves to be known - even to God. But I think today is a good day to maybe just peek over the wall and at least allow Him to see my face.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Getting Drunk
This past Saturday I went to a party. A few of us, perhaps, had a bit too much to drink. And we were acting like...well, like kids.
A few of us since then have remembered with some regret things we said and things we did while "under the influence".
And that is sad. I should first say that I personally did not witness any behavior that was out of order, wrong or unlawful. What I did witness was people - a group of friends - having a really good time together, forgetting that they cared more about what other people thought of them than just being themselves and enjoying each others company. And that's what it was - a bunch of kids, playing together, singing to some music, making jokes, dancing and being silly just for the sake of being silly. Forgotten were any petty "issues" that separated us, gone were the thoughts of "how do I look?". What was left was - "I'm glad you are here, let's enjoy living for a while together." And it was good.
It was the first time I was able to see some people for who they really are. And they were pretty good people. There was no judging, no taking yourself too seriously, no snide remarks or hurtful words.
And it makes me sad for the things in this world that inhibit us from living this freely all the time. It makes me sad that people feel, after the fact, that they need to apologize for who they really are.
The Bible tells us not to get drunk with wine, but instead, to be filled with the Spirit (Eph 5:18). It's curious that Paul - the author - would equate those two things here. Unless.....maybe it's just....that being filled with the Spirit could result in some of the same behavior as being filled with alcohol.
Maybe being truly filled with the Holy Spirit would cause me to be myself around others without fear of what they think. Maybe it would cause me to judge less, to rejoice in life more, and enjoy life with my friends to a greater degree. Maybe it would mean dancing, and laughing and not hiding my true self under what I think people expect me to be. Perhaps being filled with the Spirit is an experience in freedom and delight and honesty. Maybe it would mean that I would live out all the good things God put inside me without apology and without holding back.
Maybe it would look as improper as a group of drunk people, at first glance, appear to be.
Maybe. But I know last Saturday night was a great time. I will carry many fond memories from it of a great times spent with wonderful people. People, who were just being who they really are.
A few of us since then have remembered with some regret things we said and things we did while "under the influence".
And that is sad. I should first say that I personally did not witness any behavior that was out of order, wrong or unlawful. What I did witness was people - a group of friends - having a really good time together, forgetting that they cared more about what other people thought of them than just being themselves and enjoying each others company. And that's what it was - a bunch of kids, playing together, singing to some music, making jokes, dancing and being silly just for the sake of being silly. Forgotten were any petty "issues" that separated us, gone were the thoughts of "how do I look?". What was left was - "I'm glad you are here, let's enjoy living for a while together." And it was good.
It was the first time I was able to see some people for who they really are. And they were pretty good people. There was no judging, no taking yourself too seriously, no snide remarks or hurtful words.
And it makes me sad for the things in this world that inhibit us from living this freely all the time. It makes me sad that people feel, after the fact, that they need to apologize for who they really are.
The Bible tells us not to get drunk with wine, but instead, to be filled with the Spirit (Eph 5:18). It's curious that Paul - the author - would equate those two things here. Unless.....maybe it's just....that being filled with the Spirit could result in some of the same behavior as being filled with alcohol.
Maybe being truly filled with the Holy Spirit would cause me to be myself around others without fear of what they think. Maybe it would cause me to judge less, to rejoice in life more, and enjoy life with my friends to a greater degree. Maybe it would mean dancing, and laughing and not hiding my true self under what I think people expect me to be. Perhaps being filled with the Spirit is an experience in freedom and delight and honesty. Maybe it would mean that I would live out all the good things God put inside me without apology and without holding back.
Maybe it would look as improper as a group of drunk people, at first glance, appear to be.
Maybe. But I know last Saturday night was a great time. I will carry many fond memories from it of a great times spent with wonderful people. People, who were just being who they really are.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Root Bound
This weekend, while cleaning out some of last year's flower beds, I discovered some plant roots were still in a tight wad. Apparently, I forgot to loosen the root balls before putting them in the beds.
And since there are a bazillion great spiritual lessons to be learned through gardening and since I'm currently reading a book that talks about the emergent church and the good and not so good things about it.......
I got to thinking that perhaps the emergent movement is a response to being root bound, in a way. It would make sense in my own life. I think that the container my spiritual roots were growing in was too small for me - and I equated that container with God. It made me search for a bigger container - search for a bigger God. And so in that way, it was very good.
But the tendency perhaps is to throw away containers and flower beds and anything that hinders altogether. The danger of that is you are left with no protection, no community and very little recognizable purpose. I don't want to be planted in the middle of nowhere just to prove that I have absolute freedom. And I realize I do need the protection of being planted in a safe place, with others, where I can be tended to and bring joy to others.
So this is the thing - if our roots - our beliefs and the way we experience God -are in a container, that is too small. We need not limit Him that way. Allowing the containers of religious expression to dissolve and pushing past them to seek the depths of God is a good thing. Let me seek the depths of Him for the rest of my life and continue in the next life - I will never reach the end of Him. But let me also confess that I need the guidance of certain truth. Let me admit that I need to be planted by His house, by His people and I need the water and the Words he speaks. They are not meant to contain me, but to prosper me. They are not meant to restrain my freedom, but to protect me so that I may reach my full height.
I'm not sure if I'm saying this well or not. I was raised in a nursery in a container of limited understanding and religious practices, some of which had value, some did not. I thought that was God's way. I became root bound and unhappy with church and religion and God - unsatisfied. I wanted out, but didn't know where out led to. In my mind, I left. But it felt like being lost. Now I'm back, but with a new understanding (thank you, God). The container was not the ultimate destination for me.
The ultimate destination for me in this life is the earth. Someday it will be in the new heaven and the new earth. God encourages me to grow and search and question and discover and find and wonder with each new season. He never wanted to inhibit my growth. He urges me also to seek the things that will help me grow. And indeed, some of those things will look similar to the religion I followed before - church, prayer, Bible reading, speaking truth. But to understand that those things are not God - they are given for my benefit. God is bigger than any of those things - cannot be contained by those things.
It's time to accept the depths of a limitless, partly mysterious God - letting my mind wander in the wonder of the things of the Spirit, while holding true to the gifts he has given to help me grow, honoring truth and discipline in the life I have to live here on earth.
And since there are a bazillion great spiritual lessons to be learned through gardening and since I'm currently reading a book that talks about the emergent church and the good and not so good things about it.......
I got to thinking that perhaps the emergent movement is a response to being root bound, in a way. It would make sense in my own life. I think that the container my spiritual roots were growing in was too small for me - and I equated that container with God. It made me search for a bigger container - search for a bigger God. And so in that way, it was very good.
But the tendency perhaps is to throw away containers and flower beds and anything that hinders altogether. The danger of that is you are left with no protection, no community and very little recognizable purpose. I don't want to be planted in the middle of nowhere just to prove that I have absolute freedom. And I realize I do need the protection of being planted in a safe place, with others, where I can be tended to and bring joy to others.
So this is the thing - if our roots - our beliefs and the way we experience God -are in a container, that is too small. We need not limit Him that way. Allowing the containers of religious expression to dissolve and pushing past them to seek the depths of God is a good thing. Let me seek the depths of Him for the rest of my life and continue in the next life - I will never reach the end of Him. But let me also confess that I need the guidance of certain truth. Let me admit that I need to be planted by His house, by His people and I need the water and the Words he speaks. They are not meant to contain me, but to prosper me. They are not meant to restrain my freedom, but to protect me so that I may reach my full height.
I'm not sure if I'm saying this well or not. I was raised in a nursery in a container of limited understanding and religious practices, some of which had value, some did not. I thought that was God's way. I became root bound and unhappy with church and religion and God - unsatisfied. I wanted out, but didn't know where out led to. In my mind, I left. But it felt like being lost. Now I'm back, but with a new understanding (thank you, God). The container was not the ultimate destination for me.
The ultimate destination for me in this life is the earth. Someday it will be in the new heaven and the new earth. God encourages me to grow and search and question and discover and find and wonder with each new season. He never wanted to inhibit my growth. He urges me also to seek the things that will help me grow. And indeed, some of those things will look similar to the religion I followed before - church, prayer, Bible reading, speaking truth. But to understand that those things are not God - they are given for my benefit. God is bigger than any of those things - cannot be contained by those things.
It's time to accept the depths of a limitless, partly mysterious God - letting my mind wander in the wonder of the things of the Spirit, while holding true to the gifts he has given to help me grow, honoring truth and discipline in the life I have to live here on earth.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Exclusively True
Since reading “Sinner” by Ted Dekker, I’ve been thinking a lot about exclusivism. The book detailed a place in the future where tolerance was heralded and that everyone and every way was good and had benefit. This certainly does seem to be where we are heading. It came to the point that saying you were a Christian was unlawful because by it’s teachings, it automatically excluded the possibility that any other religion could be right. It made you narrow minded and intolerant.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that. Because there is a small part of me that rebels against the way the church has exercised exclusivism in the past and I realize it was unhealthy. On the other hand, the Bible teaches that Christ is the only way to God. It says we are to tell people about Him and encourage them to follow Him – making disciples.
But truth in it’s very nature, is exclusive. Two plus two will always equal four. The fact excludes any other possibilities. The sun will always rise in the East. Tomorrow I will be older than I am today. Sin, left alone, will always lead to death. I am not perfect – I will always, every day, need saving. There is only one death that leads to life. Truth.
At my very core, my spirit sighs at the speaking of such truth. Yet sometimes, my soul bristles – resents that truth just a bit. I don’t want to need saving. I don’t always want to bend my life to the helplessness that implies. So, given the “out” of “wanting to be accepting of people different than I am” sometimes, my mind wants to take it and run with it.
But the moment I do that, my footing becomes slippery and I get blown by the wind in what I believe and who I am. A very high price, indeed.
So, by the grace of God, I choose to believe. I will fearfully follow a God whose ways I do not understand – to the exclusion of all others. This God who is the only way – and His son who is my only chance at life – I will say without apology, is true.
Exclusively.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that. Because there is a small part of me that rebels against the way the church has exercised exclusivism in the past and I realize it was unhealthy. On the other hand, the Bible teaches that Christ is the only way to God. It says we are to tell people about Him and encourage them to follow Him – making disciples.
But truth in it’s very nature, is exclusive. Two plus two will always equal four. The fact excludes any other possibilities. The sun will always rise in the East. Tomorrow I will be older than I am today. Sin, left alone, will always lead to death. I am not perfect – I will always, every day, need saving. There is only one death that leads to life. Truth.
At my very core, my spirit sighs at the speaking of such truth. Yet sometimes, my soul bristles – resents that truth just a bit. I don’t want to need saving. I don’t always want to bend my life to the helplessness that implies. So, given the “out” of “wanting to be accepting of people different than I am” sometimes, my mind wants to take it and run with it.
But the moment I do that, my footing becomes slippery and I get blown by the wind in what I believe and who I am. A very high price, indeed.
So, by the grace of God, I choose to believe. I will fearfully follow a God whose ways I do not understand – to the exclusion of all others. This God who is the only way – and His son who is my only chance at life – I will say without apology, is true.
Exclusively.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
I just got back from another nature hike. I wonder if I'll ever get sick of them.
Walking through the woods is an exercise in viewing pre-planned chaos - and yet, there is such beauty. The randomness of fallen trees, rotting wood, collections of matted leaves and pools of muddied water seems sure. Yet, the way it all works together forms the wonder, and for me the comfort, of the woods.
It makes me wonder if that's the way God works in my own life as well. So many things seem random - so many things small and meaningless. I wonder if like the woods, my life contains so many pre-planned variables that follow the same pattern of death giving way to life. It gives me hope that even such things as long, cold winters and spells of non-creativity can somehow fit into a larger picture.
And it is a process. Those woods were formed over hundreds of years. Things take time to die and rot enough to feed the earth. New things take time to grow and become established. It may not look productive or organized, but ultimately it seems a Divine Process certianly is somehow involved.
I'll go back again, I'm sure. In a couple weeks the woods will be changed again. New things will be sprouting, more wildlife awake and moving and things beginning to show color. It will be good to see color.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Unlimited
Sometimes, God, I just wonder why.
Why create families?
Why form communities -
When we lead each other so far astray?
And why do we always look to our own needs?
Will that ever change?
Will it ever be that your body, your people
Become more important to us -
Than we, ourselves, as individuals?
And we, having needs,
How do we get past them – past ourselves -
To where life is no longer about us,
But about you?
And within your body we judge.
As if it were second nature only to breathing,
We judge -
Attitudes, actions, responses.
We read so much into
Body language, fake smiles or quick glances.
And we think we know
The whole story.
We put people in a box, even as
We put you in a box.
Maybe that’s where all this comes from.
Maybe it’s really you we are limiting, and therefore limiting
Your people.
And by limiting you and all that is beyond our control,
We begin to gain control -
Of something never meant to be controlled
By man.
You do give us what we seek.
If we could only understand
That when we limit you,
And your body here on earth -
These people who have become our family,
We also limit ourselves and who we would ever
Hope to become.
We are limited by our judgments and our own expectations,
Our own fears, our own ideas, and the parameters
Of our small thinking minds.
God, grow within us the desire for more.
Create in our hearts the restlessness
That pushes us to seek and search,
To question and reach.
And open our eyes,
God, help us to see beyond our boxes
And to accept the truth –
To accept the mystery of
The unlimited you.
Why create families?
Why form communities -
When we lead each other so far astray?
And why do we always look to our own needs?
Will that ever change?
Will it ever be that your body, your people
Become more important to us -
Than we, ourselves, as individuals?
And we, having needs,
How do we get past them – past ourselves -
To where life is no longer about us,
But about you?
And within your body we judge.
As if it were second nature only to breathing,
We judge -
Attitudes, actions, responses.
We read so much into
Body language, fake smiles or quick glances.
And we think we know
The whole story.
We put people in a box, even as
We put you in a box.
Maybe that’s where all this comes from.
Maybe it’s really you we are limiting, and therefore limiting
Your people.
And by limiting you and all that is beyond our control,
We begin to gain control -
Of something never meant to be controlled
By man.
You do give us what we seek.
If we could only understand
That when we limit you,
And your body here on earth -
These people who have become our family,
We also limit ourselves and who we would ever
Hope to become.
We are limited by our judgments and our own expectations,
Our own fears, our own ideas, and the parameters
Of our small thinking minds.
God, grow within us the desire for more.
Create in our hearts the restlessness
That pushes us to seek and search,
To question and reach.
And open our eyes,
God, help us to see beyond our boxes
And to accept the truth –
To accept the mystery of
The unlimited you.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Searching for Self
So much of our lives are spent chasing after ourselves. One of the biggest errors of which is allowing the world to identify what finding ourselves should look like. And it would seem the criteria for found-ness is constantly changing, so that the search can really never end. It is so all of our lives will be spent on searching for ourselves, in self-discovery and personal revelations meant to bring hope and enlightenment. Of course, really it brings neither. Instead it fuels a never-ending hungry fire which actually consumes us the more we feed it. It is by the world's standards that "arrival" appears to be the ability to know one's self and to personally fill and express or purchase the life-style that would fulfill the essence of who we have come to know ourselves to be.
As we search, it actually would be best to search not within ourselves, but within each other. We find ourselves in the stories and lives of other people. We find their stories to be our stories and therefore we actually come home to ourselves in the lives of others. For it is within the relational process that God enters. In the investing of ourselves, we discover life, and in discovering life, we encounter God, and where we encounter God, we begin to find ourselves. So that a person who truly wanted to find themselves must not look in, but out. They should not search their own story, but enter into the stories of others.
It is a paradox in thinking.
As we search, it actually would be best to search not within ourselves, but within each other. We find ourselves in the stories and lives of other people. We find their stories to be our stories and therefore we actually come home to ourselves in the lives of others. For it is within the relational process that God enters. In the investing of ourselves, we discover life, and in discovering life, we encounter God, and where we encounter God, we begin to find ourselves. So that a person who truly wanted to find themselves must not look in, but out. They should not search their own story, but enter into the stories of others.
It is a paradox in thinking.
Choosing Rest
Life has a way of being very full at times, and very empty at times. It is in the emptiness that we wonder how to operate - so used to the fullness we are. We nearly seek out something to fill the spaces. yet in our times of fullness, we seek the rest of emptiness. The thought processes of each state propel us forward into the next. Thought when we get there, we enjoy the new location no more than the first.
Today the house is quiet, my mind is mostly empty and I have no given desire or drive to do or accomplish anything. So that at first, it looks like an opportunity to rest. Yet, in the void of thought or desire, there builds a voice that I think has a lot to do with value, that urges me out of rest into a need to be moving - in some direction. It is a voice that says rest is unproductive and lazy. It says that in order to be of value, I must be working toward something. And so my rest becomes a place of discontent instead of peace. In turn, my rest becomes not restful, but anxiety.
At times, I think we must choose to rest - not just our bodes, but our minds. We must fight the lie that accomplishment equals value and that value determines identity. As if being a person of peace and rest wouldn't offer an identity of it's own.
Today the house is quiet, my mind is mostly empty and I have no given desire or drive to do or accomplish anything. So that at first, it looks like an opportunity to rest. Yet, in the void of thought or desire, there builds a voice that I think has a lot to do with value, that urges me out of rest into a need to be moving - in some direction. It is a voice that says rest is unproductive and lazy. It says that in order to be of value, I must be working toward something. And so my rest becomes a place of discontent instead of peace. In turn, my rest becomes not restful, but anxiety.
At times, I think we must choose to rest - not just our bodes, but our minds. We must fight the lie that accomplishment equals value and that value determines identity. As if being a person of peace and rest wouldn't offer an identity of it's own.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Hope
I'm finding that hope is the air the soul breathes. When hope reaches an end, so does the life that it supports. It is simply that vital for going forward.
The human spirit by it's very nature has hope - woven into it's fibers and running through it's veins. It is inborn into every being, as natural as the instinct to love and to dance. But even after we grow afraid to dance and too wounded to love, still we hope - or there would be no reason to go on.
I wonder what it is we hope for, or maybe better said what we hope in. Because naturally hope looks forward - to future events or future fulfillment that may yet come to pass in our lives. But the future is unknown. We can plan and schedule - and we do - trying to guarantee ourselves of fulfillment. But for the most part, it can be said that human kind hopes in the unknown. It is our only choice.
As long as we have a hope - that things will change, that we will become filled somehow, that the future holds joy and a fullness we have not yet known - we continue forward, placing one foot faithfully in front of the other.
Yet sometimes we do loose hope in things. Sometimes we seal the fates of portions of our lives by giving up hope in that area. We give up hope in our marriages, our children or spouses. We give up hope in our jobs, friendships, abilities, dreams - anything in life that has the potential to change or improve.
I think hope is a choice. And sometimes it's a scary, fragile choice. It takes courage, strength and faith to continue hoping in something that either appears a lost cause, or something that has hurt us before. It can be devastating to hope in something - only to have it fail time and time again. Hope can become a place of vulnerable foolishness we decide to abandon. But once hope is put aside, we must mourn our loss. Hope sustains the life of dreams, relationships, etc. Once we decide to hope no longer, we must accept the death of that thing.
Maybe that is one of the reasons death is so hard to deal with - at least in part. Because after death - there is no hoping left to us.
Therein lies some of the power and beauty of Easter. We are shown that even in death, we are allowed hope. Death does not silence hope - no longer can it. It lost that ability. When we choose to believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, we choose hope. In every circumstance we considered hopeless, we find a hole in the walls of death that allows something to become alive again - against all odds. God shows us he is a God that does not loose hope. He is the builder, the sustainer and the holder of all and any hope we may have in our lives. He is the Unknown we hope in - whether we realize it or not. Choosing to continue to hope builds life - feeds it - fills it and can within itself produce the very fullness we hoped for.
It is strength to identify the hopes within us - and to consciously decide to keep those hopes alive. And we know also that our hope extends beyond this life into the next.
To hope is to choose life. To hope for grand things, things of goodness and truth, is to choose a full life. Hope connects us to the eternal. It goes beyond daily life, beyond the here and now and reaches for the eternal reality of heaven.
The human spirit by it's very nature has hope - woven into it's fibers and running through it's veins. It is inborn into every being, as natural as the instinct to love and to dance. But even after we grow afraid to dance and too wounded to love, still we hope - or there would be no reason to go on.
I wonder what it is we hope for, or maybe better said what we hope in. Because naturally hope looks forward - to future events or future fulfillment that may yet come to pass in our lives. But the future is unknown. We can plan and schedule - and we do - trying to guarantee ourselves of fulfillment. But for the most part, it can be said that human kind hopes in the unknown. It is our only choice.
As long as we have a hope - that things will change, that we will become filled somehow, that the future holds joy and a fullness we have not yet known - we continue forward, placing one foot faithfully in front of the other.
Yet sometimes we do loose hope in things. Sometimes we seal the fates of portions of our lives by giving up hope in that area. We give up hope in our marriages, our children or spouses. We give up hope in our jobs, friendships, abilities, dreams - anything in life that has the potential to change or improve.
I think hope is a choice. And sometimes it's a scary, fragile choice. It takes courage, strength and faith to continue hoping in something that either appears a lost cause, or something that has hurt us before. It can be devastating to hope in something - only to have it fail time and time again. Hope can become a place of vulnerable foolishness we decide to abandon. But once hope is put aside, we must mourn our loss. Hope sustains the life of dreams, relationships, etc. Once we decide to hope no longer, we must accept the death of that thing.
Maybe that is one of the reasons death is so hard to deal with - at least in part. Because after death - there is no hoping left to us.
Therein lies some of the power and beauty of Easter. We are shown that even in death, we are allowed hope. Death does not silence hope - no longer can it. It lost that ability. When we choose to believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, we choose hope. In every circumstance we considered hopeless, we find a hole in the walls of death that allows something to become alive again - against all odds. God shows us he is a God that does not loose hope. He is the builder, the sustainer and the holder of all and any hope we may have in our lives. He is the Unknown we hope in - whether we realize it or not. Choosing to continue to hope builds life - feeds it - fills it and can within itself produce the very fullness we hoped for.
It is strength to identify the hopes within us - and to consciously decide to keep those hopes alive. And we know also that our hope extends beyond this life into the next.
To hope is to choose life. To hope for grand things, things of goodness and truth, is to choose a full life. Hope connects us to the eternal. It goes beyond daily life, beyond the here and now and reaches for the eternal reality of heaven.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
God without the packaging
Lately, I've had a hard time accepting very much input of any kind. I'm wary of the hidden agendas and empty traditions things may hold.
I have been a Christ follower all my life - believed the right things, learned to say the right things and do the right things, and for the most part, even think the right things. I memorized scripture and the catechism, went to church, and ate large dinners on Sunday afternoons. I learned about not wearing your white shoes on Sunday until after Easter, and switching to your black ones in the fall.
But to me, so much of what I believed and did was the packaging God came in.
And I've thrown all the packaging away. At least, I've tried to.
What I'm really looking for is the real God - the Jesus of the Bible - the God of the ages - without the packaging. If the cheese can stand alone - I'm pretty sure God can, too.
So, I've been careful not to accept anything that may look like packaging - the extras humans have added to God in an attempt to live according to his agenda.
And I ask myself questions like - do I really have to listen to Christian music? Do I really need to raise my hands in worship - or not raise my hands? Do I have to go to potlucks and Bible studies? Do I have to attend church regularly, or do devotions?
And I challenge spirituality - is prayer this hocus-pocus weird hyper-spiritual talk, or can it just be a conversation with God? Do I have to "feel" God's presence, or is getting all emotional about faith another fooling point? What is more the reality - that I am a human being, or that I am a spirit being?
Unfortunately, what I'm finding, is that as a human, I need some of those "religious" extras in my everyday life in order to experience God in my everyday life. God set up the Isrealites as his people. He set up their entire culture - what they wore, what they ate, their celebrations and feasts. He set up their daily lives because he knew that as humans, there is reality in that. Perhaps if I were only a spirit being, I could experience and know God without any packaging at all. But, also being human - I'm finding I do need some packaging.
I'm trying to advance slowly - adding only packaging that seems Biblical to me - including reading the Bible, so I'll know what's right, and prayer. The rest seems to me to fall under Paul's yardstick of "whatever is beneficial". Do I need to listen to Christian music? No. Is it sometimes helpful because it speaks truth into my life? Yes. Do I need to go to church? The Bible does say not to neglect meeting together, so, ok - that's a yes. Can I skip once in a while? Sure.
There is a lot of needless packaging out there, that quite frankly sickens me. Maybe it can belong to someone else, though, so I have to be careful in saying too much. I guess what it comes down to is letting God apply himself into my life however he wishes to do so. I'm an emotional person, so for me, that will probably mean some emotional experiences along the way. I'm also kind of an every day person (who isn't I guess), so that will also mean that God and I may meet at the laundry pile, or by the sink, or in the van bussing kids around.
Maybe it's not so much that I have to go looking for packaging, as much as God shares the packaging that already forms my life. Kind of like Jesus did.
And then maybe there are moments where he calls me out of my human packaging to exist for a while with him in his spiritual packaging. Maybe he not only comes down and lives with me in my here and now, but also calls me up and beyond to live with him in his here and now.
I'm finding God rarely settles for either/or - he's usually about both/and.
I have been a Christ follower all my life - believed the right things, learned to say the right things and do the right things, and for the most part, even think the right things. I memorized scripture and the catechism, went to church, and ate large dinners on Sunday afternoons. I learned about not wearing your white shoes on Sunday until after Easter, and switching to your black ones in the fall.
But to me, so much of what I believed and did was the packaging God came in.
And I've thrown all the packaging away. At least, I've tried to.
What I'm really looking for is the real God - the Jesus of the Bible - the God of the ages - without the packaging. If the cheese can stand alone - I'm pretty sure God can, too.
So, I've been careful not to accept anything that may look like packaging - the extras humans have added to God in an attempt to live according to his agenda.
And I ask myself questions like - do I really have to listen to Christian music? Do I really need to raise my hands in worship - or not raise my hands? Do I have to go to potlucks and Bible studies? Do I have to attend church regularly, or do devotions?
And I challenge spirituality - is prayer this hocus-pocus weird hyper-spiritual talk, or can it just be a conversation with God? Do I have to "feel" God's presence, or is getting all emotional about faith another fooling point? What is more the reality - that I am a human being, or that I am a spirit being?
Unfortunately, what I'm finding, is that as a human, I need some of those "religious" extras in my everyday life in order to experience God in my everyday life. God set up the Isrealites as his people. He set up their entire culture - what they wore, what they ate, their celebrations and feasts. He set up their daily lives because he knew that as humans, there is reality in that. Perhaps if I were only a spirit being, I could experience and know God without any packaging at all. But, also being human - I'm finding I do need some packaging.
I'm trying to advance slowly - adding only packaging that seems Biblical to me - including reading the Bible, so I'll know what's right, and prayer. The rest seems to me to fall under Paul's yardstick of "whatever is beneficial". Do I need to listen to Christian music? No. Is it sometimes helpful because it speaks truth into my life? Yes. Do I need to go to church? The Bible does say not to neglect meeting together, so, ok - that's a yes. Can I skip once in a while? Sure.
There is a lot of needless packaging out there, that quite frankly sickens me. Maybe it can belong to someone else, though, so I have to be careful in saying too much. I guess what it comes down to is letting God apply himself into my life however he wishes to do so. I'm an emotional person, so for me, that will probably mean some emotional experiences along the way. I'm also kind of an every day person (who isn't I guess), so that will also mean that God and I may meet at the laundry pile, or by the sink, or in the van bussing kids around.
Maybe it's not so much that I have to go looking for packaging, as much as God shares the packaging that already forms my life. Kind of like Jesus did.
And then maybe there are moments where he calls me out of my human packaging to exist for a while with him in his spiritual packaging. Maybe he not only comes down and lives with me in my here and now, but also calls me up and beyond to live with him in his here and now.
I'm finding God rarely settles for either/or - he's usually about both/and.
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