A Superhero's Kryptonite

We are all born wearing a superhero cape.  We come into the world believing we will make a difference.  We cry, expecting to be responded to, expecting to make an impact and change a situation that needs improving (namely, our empty stomach or dirty diaper).

As toddlers and young children, it is no different.  We pretend we are creators of our own worlds, rescuers of bad situations, mothers to babies, builders of towers, makers of gourmet foods and drivers of racing cars.

Moving on to middle school, we begin to have dreams of greatness.  We will one day become rock stars, models, singers, dancers.  We will be playing in the major leagues, the quarterback, the fastest, best looking and we will influence our world.

High school promises once again to prepare us for greatness.  We look to prepare ourselves not for a mere job that will allow us to make ends meet, but for a career, an identity, a chance to make something of ourselves and influence those around us.  We graduate with ideals of doing life differently than the generations before that sadly had to plod behind those before them.  We will go a different route, blaze a trail, be original and thereby, free the world from the norms of drudgery it has so far known.  We will be amazing!

Invincible.

Life begins to settle in a bit more in the next stages, perhaps.  We get married, maybe have children, work on our careers.  But we feel other people becoming dependent on us.  We are needed, we are valued and we are making a difference, even if it is only in the heart of a 2 year old child or as a cog on the turning wheels of a corporation, we recognize need and our superhero capes, though shortened over time, still live on.

But for some of us, there comes a kryptonite.  Cancer.  And I imagine this may not be too different from any number of various diseases people are diagnosed with.  They have this ability to disarm us, rip the capes from our backs, knock the shields from our arms and wrestle our weapons from our hands.  We are left standing helpless against it.  It weakens our immunity, strips us of our power, and makes us one of the very people we were sent into the world to rescue, to help.

There are few other ways to describe the helpless feeling, the suddenly stripped defenses we feel when we receive the news.  And each waiting period for diagnosis, for the next step in the process, for test results, appointments and treatments is a further wearing away of strengths we thought we once possessed.  

Soon we find ourselves operating within a whole new set of rules.  People are telling us to "take care of yourself" and to "take all thet time you need".  They tell us, "I will be praying for you" and "let me know if you need anything, anything at all".  

Wait!  Superheros take care of other people, they don't spend day after day worrying about themselves, or their own well-being.  They go out and do stuff, and help out.  They make a difference by bettering the lives of the people around them.  It feels as if someone has reversed the polarity of our world.  Wasn't I just impacting my world for the better yesterday, and yet today we are discussing surgeries, radiation and medications?

No longer invincible.

And suddenly, we are no longer sure that the good guy will always win.  Suddenly all those dreadful things we hear on the news could just as easily be us.  We now swim in a tremulous ocean of potential disasters, whereas yesterday, we stood securely on the shore.   Fears and worries enter into our minds, that before we would easily dismiss, not giving them mind due to our busy days and plans for moving forward.

I know that one day, I will be there again....working to make the world a better place, moving forward in life and taking an active role as caregiver, friend, wife, mother.  But right now I am still reeling a bit.  I am too close to the kryptonite that continues to weaken.  I can still see my superhero cape torn in shreds and lying before me.  Right now it's too raw, to real to think past it much.

Because I have faith, I believe as it is written that there is power in weakness.  Our weakness, God's power.  What choice do I have?  I do not know how this works, and many moments I confess very little hope.  But I do remember a man who once wore a cape, wore a thorn of crowns on his head, and had  rods of steel put into his hands.  And yet, somehow, in his kingdom of backwards thinking, he changed the world. 

The Crisis Connection

It's interesting how a shared crisis can bring people together, no more than that.  It can bond people together in a way that is unspoken, yet very real and strangely connected.

I have cancer.  No, that isn't quite right.  There is a small lump in my left breast that has been tested positive for cancer.  Invasive ductal carcinoma is what it is called.  But my whole body does not have cancer.  My whole being does not have cancer.  I am a very healthy person.  But this lump, it does have cancer.  And since the moment I found out about this, I was inducted into a special, amazing, and widely varied group of people.  We are people who have experienced cancer.  And unless you have been through it, there is no explaining it.

In the grocery store today, I ran into an old friend of mine.  I had known he had struggled wit cancer in the past and he informed me that his cancer has returned.  I could see it in his face, and the way he talked and even the way he spoke the words.  There was a recognition there of something I am also going through.  There were the slight eye shifts, the gentle tug at the chin and the corners of his mouth that let me know exactly what he was feeling.

So far, I haven't made it a point to tell a lot of people about my cancer.  It's not that I don't want them to know necessarily, but I don't want cancer to be who I am.  People know me as a person who is kind, or funny or whatever.  I do not want to be known as the person with cancer.  But as I spoke with my friend, I felt compelled to let him know that I understood, that I was part of the "in" crowd when in came to the unspoken griefs one wrestles with in this situation.

It has interested me that as people find out, they feel compelled to connect you with other people who have also experienced this unfortunate crisis.  And it is helpful.  It is encouraging to see so many healthy, happy people walking around who have once experienced the same thing you are now going through.  They understand your struggles in ways others cannot and can offer a knowing look as well as a "you will get through this" that becomes much more than a platitude.

I am thankful for the brave men and women who have shared with me their stories and struggles.  And I know there will be more.   I am thankful for the advancements in modern medicine that allows so many people to become survivors rather than victims.  And each day, each moment that grabs me with panic or worry remembrance, I think of these people and it makes it easier to take the next step, knowing I am in good company.

A Process

Today I am upset.  I am in a process of grieving of sorts.  And I do realize it's a process, but today, it still stands that I am upset.

I am upset because of untruth.  I am upset because of people who would rather live in darkness than in light and therefore ruin good things.  I am upset because sometimes it doesn't feel like the Good is really winning and it feels like there is nothing I can do about it.

Recently, we made the choice to leave our church.  It was not an easy choice.  And though I do believe it was the right choice to make, it does not make me happy to have made it.  And now there is a time of saying goodbye.  I know the church will continue on without us, as it should.  But I grieve for the good that was left  that we will no longer be able to be a part of.  And I grieve that our leaving may mean things will become more difficult for some people there.

I grieve mostly because it seems that good people, God's people, are being deceived and would rather listen to lies than to truth.  No one can make a person see truth.  No one can make people believe truth.  It is an option.  But when we become so entrenched in lies that we can no longer see truth, we begin to call those lies truth and hang on to them for dear life. 

It makes me worry for my own life sometimes.  What "truths" have I hung on to and defended, not realizing they were really lies?  Some, gladly, I can look back and see how God has brought parts of my thinking into the light.  But there are other parts I wonder about.

So today, I am upset, angry and frustrated.  If I could scream loud enough and people would hear me, I would do it.  If I could give something or do something that would change their points of view and open their eyes, I would.  I love that church and the people there.  What can one do when people would rather walk in darkness than in light?

One person knew what to do.  He let himself be killed in order that people may see and accept the light.  I am not that man.  But I do follow him and wish to be like him.

Lord, open my eyes to any lies I am accepting as truth.  Open my heart to feel what you feel and see what you see.  Give me the strength to die over and over again if that is what it takes for people to see and accept You.

Think About Such Things

Sometimes I forget how important beauty is. I'm not talking about being physically beautiful, although that could be included, I guess. I'm talking about the beauty that is in creation, in nature, in a good moment with your kids, an intimate time with your spouse, the beauty in friendships and laughter and good food. It's the beauty that quiets your mind, warms your heart and gives you hope.

And I've forgotten how much God loves beauty, how he lives in it and desires it for us.

For so long now it seems my life has been about problems - my problems, the kids' problems, my friends' problems, the church's problems. There's always some problem and a question about how to solve it, what to say, what to do about it, how to handle it. There is prayer and trying to seek God's will in handling the problem.

There will always be problems. And there will always be beauty.

It seems you can focus on only one at a time. If you are focusing on the beauty in life, focusing on truth and goodness and rightness, then the problems become little bumps in the road along the way. If you are focusing on the problems, the beauty seems blurred as you rush past it with the singular goal of solving the problem.

I'm tired, so tired of solving problems. I can't do it anyway. I can't fix anything except maybe dinner. So really, living life for the purpose of solving problems, though sometimes necessary, seems fruitless in the end. But living a life seeking beauty - in people, in relationships, in all of life, well, it just seems that eventually you'll find it.

Paul writes: "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." Phil 4:8.

I think it's time to switch my focus.

Changing again

It feels like everything is changing again, or it's about to. The kids will be returning to school in a couple of weeks, I'm trying to get a job subbing in the school system, things at church are changing with some people going, some new people coming. I'm getting older, and I can feel things in my body are changing. The weather will be changing soon. Our small group is looking at possibly some big changes coming, so friendships are changing, too.

Amidst all the change, I am learning a longer view of life. Things do change. Life is all about change. All things do have a season. Some are better and more enjoyable, and some take a lot of hard work and endurance. But there are good things about every season and bad things about every season. If you don't like the season you are in, just wait. It will change after a while.

But change is hard. I don't like it. It gives me a bit of a panicky feeling; like I want to hold on to something - some part of the past or present that I fear will be gone forever. I want to move ahead and grow and learn and discover, I really do. But the change, saying goodbye to people, routines, familiar faces and patterns, it's just hard.

Change is coming. There's nothing I can do to stop it, or slow it, or even in some ways, control it. I guess I just need to take a little bit to say goodbye to what is leaving before I'm ready to say a joyful hello to what is coming.

This is that goodbye.

Of Fallen-ness and Salvation

Unedited - sorry, you get the rough draft. Just too frustrated tonight not to put something down.

People. If, in the end, it all comes down to people; it means fighting and pulling and shoving and grabbing and wanting and needing.

And hurting.

It comes down to selfish words and slicing statements meant to harm.
It comes down to hate and envy and wanting revenge - wanting my own way and demanding to be heard and fighting for what's mine and what I think I need.
It's about greed and jealousy and suspicion and treachery.
It's about wanting and warring and being better than you.
It's about me and mine and ultimately - my need.
It is the ugliest, dirtiest thing you've ever seen.

It is the darkness of the soul.

It is vicious and loud and cunning and piercing. It invades and infects and controls and permeates. It pushes and distorts and wrestles and calls.
It is a darkness that makes you wonder if you've ever seen light. It's a filth that makes you question if you've ever been clean. And it comes and picks and destroys and breaks you down until you can no longer stand.

In the end, it is a heavy darkness of a hopeless heart.

But it is not truth. And it is not the end. There is another way - a better way.
A Way that lifts and lives and builds and protects and sees in bright color.
It hopes and heals and restores and reassures and calms.
It speaks peace and climbs and discovers and wills to have all creation rise with it.
It desires and trusts and speaks and sings and shouts. It rises higher and moves onward and outward and upward. It does not stall or pause but pushes forward with the intensity of life and love and goodness.
It cannot be stopped, it cannot be slowed, cannot be diminished. It cannot be hidden or avoided or mistaken. It cannot be misunderstood or forgotten.
It stands.

Always.

Forever.

This is where I choose to stand - where I choose to go - who I choose to be.
I am moved by power not my own, guided by wisdom I do not possess and see things my hands cannot reveal.
I am a witness to the wonder beyond my greatest imagination and formed daily by a hand so mighty, yet unseen. Here confusion becomes clear, and weakness becomes strength, darkness becomes light, and goodness - goodness is a perfect purity that permeates existence.

It is here that I stand.

It is here that I wait.

It is here I believe.

Florida vacation post #1

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.