pondering every morsel

pondering poetry

2012-01-29T08:04:00.003-05:00

My daughter's feet on the floor

The sound woos my mind
From subconscious to conscious
And once again
My thoughts have not rested

Birds
I hear them just outside
We are their place to be

Sunlight glows from the window

I pull my favorite blanket from the bed
and carry it with me to my favorite chair

Wrapped
I look out toward the east
It's exactly the moment

The sky glows with oranges and yellows and pinks
Above that, a deep still-dark blue
Black silhouettes of trees line the foreground

The cause of this beautiful array
itself is barely visible
A white marble on the horizon
Mostly hidden and seemingly small

I will join the birds
I will sing today

For the beauty of the earth
For the glory of the skies
For the Love which from our birth
Over and around us lies
Lord of all to Thee we raise
This our hymn of grateful praise

pondering plan and purpose

2012-01-28T11:36:00.001-05:00

It's no secret I wrestle with sovereignty issues. I resist easy answers that seem more intended to bolster our faith against questions/doubts than to draw our hearts near to God. I reject the notion that God needs certain things to happen, otherwise the great "plan" can't be fulfilled. I don't know how to reconcile all this - my best answer is summed up in the Sara Groves song, Mystery.

But what I do believe in - what I cannot deny - is purpose. I am led along by His Spirit, called to go this way or that, often for reasons that I can't know right now. I think of Princess Irene in George MacDonald's The Princess and The Goblin. She was charged to keep her finger on the silver thread, to follow whereever it led, even though others could not see it and would not understand. She did so, with complete and unwavering confidence. That's the most beautiful image of what I'm trying to express. I feel that. I trust it. Not that "things happen for a purpose", but that my life has a purpose and the Spirit leads me in that.

Yesterday I spent a lot of time listening to these lyrics, from Rich Mullins,

Somewhere
Amidst these ins and these outs
There's a fine line of purpose
I follow even now
Through the haze of despair
That confuses and hurts us
I look to see that You're there
And I run toward Your light
Somewhere
Beyond these reasons and feelings
Somewhere
Beyond the passion and fatigue
I know You're there
And that Your Spirit is leading me
Somewhere

As I loved on the Northwest School of the Arts family (and they loved on me in return), a phrase kept floating through my mind: "for such a time as this". I have a renewed, unwavering confidence that I have been led to this exact place and that my heart has been prepared for this exact moment. The path from there to here has taken turns that others have not understood or approved of - it's brought some pain and division. I suppose that's unavoidable. But I wouldn't trade anything for the clear conscience and powerful peace that are mine.
.

Where the path leads from here, I don't know ... but I know this: I'm more determined than ever to keep my finger on the thread.

'Oh! I do feel it!' exclaimed the princess. 'But I can't see it,' she added, looking close to her outstretched hand.

'No. The thread is too fine for you to see. You can only feel it.'

pondering pride in a prayer room

2012-01-26T05:24:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I visited the 24/7 prayer room - a favorite spot.

A group had gathered there and were praying aloud. I hesitated, but then entered, realizing it wasn't "closed". I hoped they'd soon be done.

I found a hidden spot in a back corner, but I was distracted. The one place I counted on to be peaceful was instead provoking me. I expected soft music, but it wasn't playing - it had been turned off and instead all I could hear were these people praying, praying, praying. Louder and louder. Would they ever stop? They used all sorts of fancy language and egged each other on with amens and "mm hmms". It worked on my soul like a constant dripping.

A half hour passed. A rage brewed inside me. I wanted to rip things off the walls. I wanted to hear glass shattering. I wanted to punch someone or something. And I wanted to scream. I could hardly contain it.

They went on and on,

"You control every single thing that happens, and You do nothing wrong ever, and every single thing that comes from You is good and right, forgive us for not believing that, we proclaim today that You do all and You do all things well and we are the ones who cannot see it... one day we'll know that everything was exactly as it should have been and we will no longer question...we will approve all You do, and You do all"

On the outside, I wept bitter tears - on the inside, I swore at them.

"You are wrong! I reject you and your sick twisted beliefs! I reject the very suggestion that the God who indwells my Spirit and shapes my heart expects me to look at something horrible and call it "good". It's not good! It's not good that my friend died alone and in despair - and you people, would you have accepted him into your little prayer group? Would you have even been able to see God in him? The way gay people are expected to stay "outside the camp" is not good! It's not good that my 2 year old niece is suffering through chemo and a 104 degree fever! It's not good that this very moment a child is being abused! It's not good that people are starving to death, scared to leave their homes, are enslaved, wallow in institutions, have lost all hope that their lives will ever change because they pray for help and help never comes... it's not good! And heaven? You're saying I won't care about all this anymore! That I'll have some kind of lobotomy, that a switch will all of a sudden flip in my brain and all these things will be "good" and "right" to me because it was for God's "glory". Well, keep your heaven - I don't want it! Because that sounds like HELL to me! I hope I NEVER become that cold unfeeling person!"

At some point, a scripture came to mind: the story Jesus told, contrasting two men praying. One prayed drawn out, impressive prayers - loudly so all could hear.

"Yeah, that! See! Even Jesus said ... hang on, wait... wait a second"

The other man prayed alone. He beat his breast and prayed...

"What did he pray?
What did he pray?"

Lord, have mercy on me - a sinner.

Lord

have mercy

on ME

a sinner

A flood: Realization. Shame. Confession. Penance. Humility.

I am not the good-guy in this Bible story.

Not to say I don't continue to wrestle with those very honest things, because I do. But oh God - to love my point more than people. To have squinty, accusing eyes. To believe I am more right and more righteous than another. Hideous, ugly, sick-soul puffed up Pharisee pride. I reject that. I reject it.

Forgive. Rid. Change.

Lord, have mercy. Your mercy is great. Have mercy on us all.

pondering with my wise son

2012-01-25T21:29:00.001-05:00

(our bedtime conversation, word for word as best I remember it... )

Me: "So, did your friends have much to say about the sad news?"

Aaron: "A few did. Not much, really."

Me: "Okay. So, how are YOU doing?"

Aaron: (pauses, sighs) "Honestly, Mom... and I know this is going to sound strange... but I actually feel like, since Dr. Bowe's passing, I've been happier at school than I've ever been before."

(he braces himself for my reaction)

Me: (pausing... pondering) "You know what? I think I know what you mean."

Aaron: "You do?"

Me: "Yeah. You're not glad Dr. Bowe is dead. We all miss him. But since this happened, everyone at school is being very warm and loving to one another ... teachers and students are sharing their hearts with each other, like really talking and showing their true selves ... people are hugging... those things make us feel good inside. Really good. Happy might not be the word, but I understand what you mean."

Aaron: "Yeah, ... like that."

Me: "You know what?"

Aaron: "What?"

Me: "You (kiss) are VERY (kiss) wise."

Aaron (crooked grin): "Thanks Mom."

Talk with your kids.

Listen.

Not for what you think they should think or feel.

But for what they actually DO.

pondering a loss

2012-01-24T20:55:00.005-05:00

Last spring, Aaron - then a 10 year old rising sixth grader - literally bounced his way out of Northwest School of the Arts, where we'd just attended an open house. The same boy who had been adamant about wanting to be homeschooled for middle school exclaimed,

"Mom! I have GOT to go HERE!"

I was thrilled for him, so I tried hard to mask my inner conflict. Always the perceptive one, I could've sworn he'd read my mind when he pressed,

"What about Luke?"

His older brother - also a rising sixth grader - has an autism disorder known as Asperger's Syndrome. He is, in many ways, still a little boy; so innocent, a real live Peter Pan. I looked back at the school building and stifled a shudder. Could Luke manage here? It wasn't THIS school in particular, that worried me. I didn't feel any more confident about the large middle school we were zoned for. Everything about the fifth-to-sixth grade transition worried me, where Luke was concerned.

"I don't know, buddy, but that doesn't matter because you are going to LOVE it here, I know it!"

We walked to the car, silently. As I opened the door, Aaron stopped me and pressed,

"He can do it, Mom - I know he can."

Trying to hold back the tears was futile. I gave him a squeeze, lifted a prayer, and promised to think about it.

I went straight to the top, and my email to Principal Dr. Bowe was answered within the day. He directed me to the school's EC chair, who welcomed my MANY questions (if you haven't gathered this about me, yet, I ask a lot of questions. A. LOT.) The two of them offered to meet with my husband and I, so of course we took them up on it. Before I laid eyes on either of them, I was blown away by their generosity and kindness. Meetings with staff of their caliber often take weeks to schedule, and then only after "forms" and "protocol" and repeated requests. A glimmer of hope began to light our path... maybe this could work?

Dr. Bowe greeted us as though we'd arrived at his home for Thanksgiving dinner; we were instantly at ease. The two of them were frank with their concerns, while at the same time eager to see both our boys succeed at their school. One phrase I remember from Dr. Bowe was, "I exited (fill in the blank, I forget the number) students last year alone. I love these kids and my door is always open, but I don't play." That may seem an odd thing to remember positively, but for a Mom who worried that behavior problem kids would ruin her boys' chances of having a positive middle school experience, this was music to my ears.

Speaking of music, we loved the pride in his eyes as he went ON and ON about all the achievements his students had made. One funny story had to do with a college that wanted to send their choir over to perform, in order to recruit students. He laughed and said, "I told them, 'Listen, I'm sorry but your choir cannot sing here - my kids can sing rings around y'all. You need to have MY choir come sing at YOUR school!"

I later learned that he was gifted in art, music, technology, and that he had a special heart for exceptional students after spending several years working with "severe" kids. Most of time, when people say, "Oh I've worked in special ed" it actually makes me cringe, because what they are really saying is, "I know everything there is to know about exceptional kids." Those are the worst people to have working with children like my son. The. Worst. But it was apparent that Dr. Bowe didn't mean it that way at all. He meant it in the rare and priceless way of, "I invest in students with differences because I've seen the value they bring - I will look for that in your child, too, and I WILL find it, because I already know it's there."

We began the school year fully aware that this would be a big stretch for Luke. Almost every single day, Dr. Bowe interacted with him in some way. He ate lunch with him or sought him out at spa ("student physical activity" - fancy term for "go walk around outside a while"). If Luke had a difficult time, he'd visit Dr. Bowe's office for a chat or help him out by sharpening pencils - sometimes 100 at a time, until he was settled enough to return to class. Dr. Bowe once talked him down off a brick wall! Luke was never in real danger, he's a monkey if there ever was one, but the fact that Dr. Bowe patiently and compassionately talked him down without anyone having to call ME to do it, impresses me to this day.

He also reached out to Aaron, giving him high fives every morning. Aaron took to the school right away, but started to look a little down during the second quarter. As it turned out, they'd switched from Health to PE and some of the boys were giving him a hard time. He's not a clumsy boy, by any means, but he's not the best at organized sports, either, and a handful of students made sure he didn't forget that. I sent one email to Dr. Bowe asking if he might reach out to Aaron: ONE. The VERY NEXT DAY Aaron came out smiling. He said Dr. Bowe had asked him about his GPA, and when Aaron didn't know what it was, he taught him how to calculate it. Then he explained to Aaron that everyone is gifted in different ways: he's gifted academically, others are gifted athletically. Neither is better or worse. Aaron never came out with his head down after PE again. In fact, he went on to win a game soon after that! What price can you put on your child's smile? You can't. Priceless.

Dr. Bowe didn't just win the hearts of my sons, though. He won mine, too. I remember feeling as though I'd been gut-punched when I was called to pick Luke up early one day. He'd bitten a student. Bitten. As in BITE. As in, "This is what toddlers do"! (in his defense, he was provoked) I wanted to die. I was embarrassed for crying, but Dr. Bowe said, "We laugh, hug, and cry a lot at NWSA. Luke is learning - like all of our students." Luke was given ISS and you can believe he's never done that again, nor will he - the point was made, with my full support. But he never felt shamed, and NEITHER DID I.

That ... that is just ... it's unheard of. Mothers always feel guilted and shamed over such things. But I wasn't. I didn't. I couldn't believe it.

Not long ago, I told Dr. Bowe that Aaron wanted to add a piano major to his band major next year. He told me stories about earning his way through school by being paid to play piano and organ at churches. He said one church gave him an apartment to use on the weekends, where he'd practice and study. I smiled, thinking, "Now that could come in handy!" He shared himself with me, which opened the door for me to do the same, and so we became friends. I stopped being "Mrs. McConnell", and became "Michelle". I knew he wanted me to call him "Barry" but I never could bring myself to do it... the respect level I had for him wouldn't allow it. Still, he knew my "Dr. Bowe" address was filled with affection.

He only heard me angry once, and it wasn't at him. I called demanding to speak with him and the secretary put me through. I'll never forget his calming voice, settling me down with phrases like, "You know I'm here for you, now tell me what's going on." He patiently listened and he took care of business, quickly and forcefully. I went from anxious and upset to calm and confident within 24 hours. That's effective leadership.

So it's no surprise that when I learned late last week that he was being forced to resign or be fired, my spirit sank. How could this happen? I knew the entire school adored him and that he was respected throughout the community. The explanation just didn't hold water. It didn't make sense that one event: a fight breaking out in the parking lot during an after hours school party, where it's rumored-but-yet-to-be-confirmed-and-denied-by-adult-eye-witnesses that a gun was pulled (not by a NWSA student, and no one was hurt). Some parents complained that no security was present, but that didn't make sense, either - Dr. Bowe is the most thorough, follow-through professional I've encountered. He wouldn't NOT request security (he claims he did in fact request security, but none showed). Regardless of the ins and outs and finger pointing surrounding that unfortunate evening, REGARDLESS of ALL of that, how - HOW - could this one isolated event cancel out an entire glowing career? How can that make any amount of sense?

(Answer: it doesn't)

I joined other parents to advocate for Dr. Bowe, demanding that this decision be reversed. We went on the local news, and we were preparing to address the school board, when the worst happened...

My husband woke me a little after midnight. I could tell by his face that something was dreadfully wrong, and I was scared. I thought of my niece who has been in the hospital receiving chemo, I thought of our parents.... all sorts of things ran through my mind, but I never expected him to say,

"Michelle... Dr. Bowe is dead."

I didn't sleep anymore that night (and I haven't slept since). This good man should not have felt alone and trapped and hopeless. He should still be with us, with "his kids". What sense is there to be made? None. It's a tragedy. Plain and simple. A senseless, dark tragedy.

We told our boys this morning.... told them that Daddy had taken the day off so that we could all drive down to the school together. Told them they should wear black (as requested by student leadership). Told them we'd stop by the grocery on the way to buy roses. Told them why. Our beloved Dr. Bowe was gone. We wept together.

Luke asked the most innocent, heart wrenching questions.

"But... how can I go to school without a principal? Who will I have chats with? Who will I sharpen pencils for?"

When we got to the school I gave him his roses and asked him where he'd like to put them. He said matter of factly,

"I need to give them to Dr. Bowe."

I lost it; we had to start all over at square one. Then he said, sadly,

"Oh ... yeah ... Then we should put them here, where he always stands to say good morning."

And so, white roses lay at the edge of the carpool parking lot, where Dr. Bowe should have been standing this morning ... but wasn't.

Aaron, on the other hand, processes more the way I always have. He didn't say much. He nodded. He said his throat felt dry and scratchy. Later he said his stomach didn't feel good. I asked if he had any questions. He said no. But I know better. We've shared a lot of hugs today. I need to encourage him to write...

How does one ponder such things? When I close my eyes I picture that good man sitting in his car alone. How do I get that image out of my mind?

And where do I put God in such a story? Dr. Bowe knew God, this I am sure of - we talked of such things. And God never left him, I know that, too.

But everything in between is up for grabs.

Whatever window of despair led to this tragic end, we will never fully comprehend. But his heart - his smile - his love - his zeal - his sense of humor - his excellence - his Sponge-Bob ringtone - his rainbow colored lariat - his absolute authenticity .... those are his legacy. We knew him less than a year, and this is what I have to say for it! Imagine countless students, who were blessed by years of day in and day out Dr. Bowe Love!

That's what remains.

I'm trying... trying hard... to ponder that.

in these bodies

we will live

in these bodies

we will die

where you invest your love

you invest your life

~Mumford and Sons, Awake My Soul

pondering what it means to be blessed

2012-01-13T07:58:00.000-05:00

You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.

You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
You're blessed when you're content with just who you are—no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought.
You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.
You're blessed when you care. At the moment of being 'care-full,' you find yourselves cared for.
You're blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family.
You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God's kingdom.
Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don't like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble.

~Jesus, Matthew 5, The Message

pondering a creek

2012-01-12T10:39:00.000-05:00

A creek

I am not in the mountains

I did not travel far to get here

this I know.

And yet, the creek-

it deceives me.

The water flows slowly

from the upper fields toward the low ground.

No babbling

no laurels

no hopping stones.

Just sand - and mud.

But someone

someone who, like me,

longed to feel

away

carried river rocks

built a dam

created a waterfall.

I heard it before I saw it

I paused in the pasture to listen

No sound compares

Though the cackling of a fire comes close.

~Michelle McConnell

pondering Mozart with Mary Oliver

2012-01-11T13:40:00.003-05:00

I lied... make it two. I'll stop at two. I can do that. Really, I can.

Mozart, for Example

All the quick notes

Mozart didn’t have time to use

before he entered the cloud boat

are falling now from the beaks

of the finches

that have gathered from the joyous summer

into the hard winter

and, like Mozart, they speak of nothing

but light and delight,

though it is true, the heavy blades of the world

are still pounding underneath.

And this is what you can do too, maybe,

if you live simply and with a lyrical heart

in the cumbered neighborhoods or even,

as Mozart sometimes managed to, in a palace,

offering tune after tune after tune,

making some hard-hearted prince

prudent and kind, just by being happy.

-Mary Oliver

pondering Praying with Mary Oliver

2012-01-11T13:22:00.003-05:00

I spent yesterday on a "silent retreat". It was - to be cliche - heavenly. I read a lot of Mary Oliver ... I wrote a lot of poetry myself, as well. I'm so grateful to the dear lady who opened her farm and home to a handful of us.

My first inclination was to copy and paste every Mary Oliver poem that spoke to me yesterday - I'm that enamored with her - but that would be foolish. So I will practice restraint, and share one. Expect to see more. You may even see some of mine, if I am brave. Compared to hers, well ... it's a start. I find this new voice works well for the types of things I want to say, but I need more practice.

And more days on silent retreat. :)

Praying

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

~ Mary Oliver ~

pondering Cathy and Luke

2012-01-08T17:28:00.000-05:00

"If it's okay with you, I'd like for Luke to get to know me better, so he can sit with me in church sometimes..."

Luke is 13. He has an autism disorder known as Asperger's Syndrome. And church can be really long for him. He does pretty well, honestly, but I definitely have to keep my game face on.

Cathy is my friend. She stopped me as this morning's service was closing, to ask me that question. She and her partner Joanne have raised two kids (who I've had the pleasure of meeting), but I've noticed that they often have a child or two sitting with them in service. I never thought much of it, till today. Today I put it all together.

Their children are grown now. They could sit and enjoy the service without the distractions and interruptions that come with being responsible for little ones. They could walk up for communion calmly, not herding children along with them. But they'd rather offer young families their time and presence and attention. They enjoy the kids, the kids enjoy them, and the parents enjoy a bit of freedom. Beautiful.

A huge grin crossed Luke's face when Cathy asked if he'd sit with her next week. Oh, to have someone put that kind of smile on your child's face... does anything compare? Nothing touches a parent's heart more. I'm so grateful for Cathy, and for every special person who has ministered to our kids over the years, simply by offering themSELVES.

Proverbs instructs us not to withhold good from others, when it's in our power to do it. I'm challenged to think about that more this week. Whatever we offer, though seemingly small - when given freely, without condition or expectation - can be BIG to the one receiving it.

I should know. I was reminded of that just this morning.

pondering people

2012-01-06T21:08:00.000-05:00

Tonight a small group of people huddled in our driveway round a cheaply built metal fire bowl.
We talked. We laughed. We grieved. We wondered. We prayed. We praised.
These are our people.
That won't change.
Much HAS changed over the years, for all of us.
But the connection we share will not.
That is a holy thing.
And because of that, our concrete driveway and our cheaply built fire bowl are sacred.
A holy place.

pondering hope

2012-01-05T12:44:00.002-05:00

There is so much sadness and hurt in this world. So much that it chokes me sometimes. I literally feel that I cannot breathe.

While we have very little in the way of details, we know that Mary's birthmother lived a sad, desperate life. We have now learned that she has also died a sad death. The news hit me like a truck. Mary has no clue, but this morning we shared extra long, extra tight cuddles.

I've been listening to this song with tears streaming down my face. This is not the end. That woman - who didn't ask to be born into those circumstances ... who didn't ask to be born AT ALL - is a child of God, dearly loved, and in some mysterious way that I don't dare pretend to understand, I believe she knows that now, whether she ever did or never did.

I recently read these words in Seize the Day (with Dietrich Bonhoeffer): A 365 Day Devotional,

He is for us in our weakness, struggles, and efforts when we seek to serve God, but against us in our pride, self sufficiency, and attempts to place our concerns at the center of our life. But even when Christ is against us, it is because He is committed to changing us.

I'm so thankful to understand this now. I'm so thankful for hope. And I look forward to the day when we shall all be changed.

pondering expectations

2012-01-05T12:33:00.002-05:00

Have you ever walked into a situation literally having NO idea what to expect? That scenario has played out a lot for me over recent months. I must admit I've come to rather enjoy it. It's quite thrilling. But then again I'm the woman who drives around town with the license plate that reads, "YNOT?"

Last night I attended my first mid-week Bible study at the Lutheran church we've been attending. Now, the following is going to sound completely judgmental, idiotic, pious, and God only knows what else. But it's honest. So here goes.

My background tells me that mainline churches aren't serious about the Bible. That they downplay scripture and faith in general. That they are glorified social clubs. Not only that, but any church where gender-varied people are present obviously falls into a category known as "liberal", and therefore has a whole litany of descriptors attached to it, that I won't even bother to go into because that's actually fodder for a completely different post...

I've learned by now that the above assumptions are in no way necessarily true, but I still had no idea what to expect. What I got was delightful. Challenging. Ponder-worthy, if I say so myself!

First of all, we were practically doing old school Awana sword drills, we were flipping through our Bibles so much! Comparing versions and footnotes and cross references. Awesome!

"How does what Isaiah says tie in with the Psalm Jesus quoted here in Matthew? And is it also possible that Daniel is referencing the same thing or is the language only similar and so we assume it's the same thing?"
"How does our theology of the cross inform our view of who God is?"
"Well ... what do you mean by right?"

At the risk of sounding cheesy, I gotta say... I'm an herbivore when it comes to diet, but I had MEAT last night! Good meat, too. Wow, that was fun! Can't wait to go back in two weeks. And, as a side note, turns out my natural bent of interpretation/application is actually quite... Lutheran! Funny, that. Pastor N reminded me, “We take the Bible too seriously to take it literally.” If that’s a scary statement for you, I get that, but I’ve come to realize that I’ve always handled the Bible this way, I just didn’t know (until recently) that that was “okay”. No one is going to put me in detention for asking the wrong questions (yes that really happened to me at my Christian high school … no, Mama, I never told you about it … sorry!) J

As an added note (and this paragraph definitely falls under what I fear will sound “judgmental/idiotic/pious”) I need to point out that at least half the people sitting around the table were gay. Straight Christians who aren’t accustomed to spending time with gay Christians don’t realize this – in my experience, can’t even fathom this – so I feel the need to share it: the word “gay” never came up. Homosexuality never came up. SEXuality never came up. In fact, unless you have some seriously tuned in gay-dar going on, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between any of us! I obviously don’t care one way or the other, but this is important, so hear me: a mix of gay and straight Christians had a Bible study that had ZERO to do with “the gay thing”. Now, I’d have loved to share ONE post without using that word but alas… ;)

I’m learning so much and truly enjoying it. Understand, this IN NO WAY underscores how much I've learned from other people and places ... I have written pages upon pages over the years about all that Pastor M has taught me about grace. So this is not a pitting of one denomination or group against another, not at all. Those nearest to me know that full well, you know my heart, but just in case any readers do not know, I say it again.

Since I know some of you are wondering, I ... we - our family, have not left anything and have not joined anything. I honestly have no idea how this small congregation of people fits into the grand story of our lives. Truth be told, I'm probably in a state of denial because I'm still trying to figure how to literally be in two places at one time. I reject the temptation to be stressed by those questions. What I do recognize is that this as an important chapter, and I intend to milk it for all it's worth.

How about you? Is there something in your life that you're so concerned about it's permanence (or lack thereof) that you're missing its richness? Maybe that's a ponder-worthy question in and of itself....

pondering Gen Silent

2012-01-03T13:57:00.000-05:00

"Why are you so hung up on this gay thing?"

I've been asked that a lot lately. The answer? I don't know. It just won't leave me alone. I don't know why, I don't know to what end, I don't know. I just know I've been blessed/cursed (depending on who you talk to) with a compelling draw toward this topic and this community of people. I don't see it as odd, but others do ... I guess I get that. I only know that my life is growing richer and I'm grateful for it. What God's up to with all this, well... that remains to be seen. I'm not too worried about it, to tell you the truth. I trust Him, and I'm enjoying the ride.

With that said, yes, I have another post on that topic. The documentary film Gen Silent is available for free screening online through January 8th. I watched it with the words of Isaiah 58 and Matthew 25 ringing in my ears. Watch it here (this is a full length documentary so get a cup of tea or a glass of wine or whatever you enjoy...).

com·pas·sion
(k m-p sh n).
n. Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T10:32:00.000-05:00

To be authentically human is to be willing to turn—and to be a saint is to have turned/changed many times.

Away from my smallness and toward an Unspeakable Greatness—which is itself never fully attained.

-Richard Rohr

pondering a time to embrace

2011-12-30T18:43:00.001-05:00

I've read many books on the topic of homosexuality and Christianity over the past few years. While a couple of the real-life accounts have been helpful in that they provide context and story, the rest have been - for the most part - lacking, in my opinion. I've been neither impressed nor convinced by them. Not that I need a book to convince me, but I admit I'm the type of person who needs alignment in my life. My conscience/the Spirit may lead me toward a certain persuasion but I also need to understand, at least on some level, how that fits into the big picture of my own personal religion/faith/philosophy. And so I've been reading... a lot.

This is the first book that satisfied. It's heady, it's a bit long, and it's excellent. It's thorough. It's incredibly well researched - the last 25% of the book is notes and I read all those, too!

In my state of North Carolina, we will be asked to vote on an amendment in May. I'm convinced this amendment is a huge mistake. In addition to prohibiting same-sex marriage, as state statute already does, the Amendment would:

prohibit North Carolina from passing civil unions;
bar the state from instituting domestic partnership rights;
strip the domestic partner insurance benefits currently offered to employees by a number of local governments, including Chapel Hill, Durham, Greensboro, and Mecklenburg and Orange Counties.

In addition, courts could interpret the language of the Amendment to ban any rights to state's hundreds of thousands of unmarried couples—both same and opposite-gender. This would:

invalidate domestic violence protections for all unmarried partners;
undercut existing child custody and visitation rights that are designed to protect the best interests of children;
prevent the state from giving committed couples rights to allow them to order their relationships, including threatening their ability to determine the disposition of their deceased partner's remains; to make medical decisions if their partner is incapacitated; and to allow second-parent adoptions in order to ensure that both partners have a legal tie to, and financial responsibilities for, the children they are raising.
invalidate trusts, wills, and end-of-life directives by one partner in favor of the other.

As we welcome a new year, I encourage my fellow North Carolinians to take on a personal challenge. Between now and May, resolute to do two things:

Read this book - educate yourself on both the history and theology surrounding this issue.
More importantly - befriend a family where two moms or two dads are raising children (or have raised now adult children). Spend time with them. Worship with them. Serve alongside them.

After you've done those two things, be sure to vote your conscience in May.

pondering after midnight

2011-12-25T01:03:00.003-05:00

It's dangerous to blog at midnight (or after). It's kind of like drunk texting. Who knows what you'll be ballsy enough to say! (like that right there)

I've been to three Christmas Eve services in the past 24 hours. No, I'm not trying to get extra helpings of Jesus. Our lives have just stretched and spread and it's good. Each one brought it's moments of awe, inspiration, and sometimes laughter.

Like last night, our friends at The Inclusion Community invited us to the Davidson United Methodist Chapel for Christmas Eve-Eve. Just as the beautiful space began to glow with candle-light and lovely refrains of Silent Night filled the air ... all serenity was broken by a sudden shriek from Sarah, who had managed to burn herself with hot wax. Sarah makes sure everyone knows when something hurts, too. Awesome.

Or this afternoon, after enjoying the Christmas Eve service at Lake Forest Church, our home church for many years and where we caught up with many friends, Mary was in charge of giving homemade cinnamon ornaments to everyone on the ministry and service teams. Concerned that the sweet smelling ornaments would be mistaken for cookies, Mary was all business, saying to every single person,

"Merry Christmas - don't eat it.
Merry Christmas - don't eat it...."

There were moving moments too. Like hearing my kids sing loudly and proudly the songs we've sung together in the privacy of our home (and being tickled that they knew when Kyle screwed up the words to Away in a Manger, ha!). Or being moved to tears as I caught Pastor Mike out of the corner of my eye, over there on the front row in his jeans, with one hand raised high in praise during Joy to the World. Or when, tonight, I knelt to receive communion at midnight (or something close to it) while listening to It Came Upon A Midnight Clear being sung. Maybe it was just that I was weary from the late hour, I don't know, but I was moved as I've not been in some time as I heard this verse,

And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
whose forms are bending low,
who toil along the climbing way
with painful steps and slow,
look now! for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
and hear the angels sing!

This year has been (and still is) made up of many slow painful steps. It was good to rest tonight - to just stay knelt at the altar - so long that Pastor Nancy offered me communion twice ;) I wasn't given a wonder or a sign, but I was challenged to remain in this place of rest - not jump ahead to the next thing on my mind now that advent is over, or rush to make decisions where uncertainty remains - but instead to just stop - be still - and hear the angels sing for a while.

"Peace on the earth, good will to men,
from heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay,
to hear the angels sing.

pondering with dear friends: lost in my mind...

2011-12-24T09:11:00.002-05:00

I couldn't say it better myself so I won't even try. We love these people. We love what they say and how they say it. Ponder their words with us. This is Truth.
lewis family christmas video 2011 from the redesign company on Vimeo.

pondering advent with Bonhoeffer and Bono

2011-12-21T09:33:00.002-05:00

Through all the Advents of our life that we celebrate goes the longing for the final Advent, where it says: "Behold, I make all things new" (Rev. 21:5). Advent is a time of waiting. Our whole life, however, is Advent--that is, a time of waiting for the ultimate, for the time when there will be a new heaven and a new earth, when all people are brothers and sisters and one rejoices in the words of the angels: "On earth peace to those on whom God's favor rests." Learn to wait.~Bonhoeffer

I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one, bleed into one
Well yes, I'm still running
You broke the bonds and you loosed the chains
Carried the cross of my shame, of my shame
You know I believe it!!~Bono

pondering our anniversary and advent's fourth candle

2011-12-19T11:38:00.001-05:00

To my daughter this morning, "Guess what we did last night!"

"What?"

"Well, we went out to a restaurant for dinner, then Daddy said we had to stop by a friend's house and pick something up. When we got there a bunch of our very favorite friends were there! It was a surprise party! Daddy had planned the whole thing!"

She crinkled her nose a bit. "A surprise party for your anniversary? Isn't that kinda weird? Aren't you supposed to get a present?"

"But Daddy knew this would make me the most happy, happier than any present, so that's what he did."

She smiled, "Oh! So he DID give you a present!"

"Exactly!"

It's true. Last night was wonderful. Mostly because my husband knows me. He gets me. He values me and what I value. Priceless.

Yesterday was the fourth Sunday of advent. If we'd gathered round our wreath last night, we'd have lit the Love candle.

At some point during the evening, it hit me - we did light the Love candle last night. We SO did.

Love shall be our token;

love be yours and love be mine,

Love to God and to all men,
love for plea and gift and sign.

pondering the ox of passion and the ass of prejudice

2011-12-19T11:16:00.003-05:00

"Mom! Mom! Sarah is going to throw away my Link costume!" Frantic words from my 11 year old, concerning his 9 year old sister's plan for his most prized possession.

Enter Sarah, as if on cue, carrying said costume in her arms with a look of angry determination on her face. Tossing said costume in the garbage was the greatest weapon she could come up with.

I didn't have to ask why.

"Aaron says the Bible was written at the first Christmas and it WASN'T! It was NOT written yet, AIR-RUN! It hadn't even HAPPENED yet!"

She didn't add "duh" - her facial expression said it for her.

"I said most of the Bible was written! The Old Testament stuff was all written down. That IS most of the Bible! Have you ever looked at the Bible???"

That's when I heard myself say these words:

"I did not teach you the Bible so you could fight and hurt one another over who is right or wrong about this or that. I taught you the Bible so that you will love one another!"

I didn't add "dammit" - my facial expression said it for me.

Merry bleeping Christmas!

Earlier this morning I'd read these words from Evelyn Underhill,

...human nature is like a stable inhabited by the ox of passion and the ass of prejudice; animals which take up a lot of room and which I suppose most of us are feeding on the quiet. And it is there between them, pushing them out, that Christ must be born and in their very manger He must be laid - and they will be the first to fall on their knees before Him. Sometimes Christians seem far nearer to those animals than to Christ in His simple poverty, self-abandoned to God.

My kids need to be reminded of this.

I need to be reminded of this.

Lord, have mercy!

And in despair I bowed my head:

'There is no peace on earth, ' I said

'For hate is strong, and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.'

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men.'

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

pondering stuff Jesus said

2011-12-14T13:45:00.005-05:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about stuff Jesus said, and how much of it has taken on entirely new meaning for me.

For example,

Mark 8:38 If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels. NIV

or as Eugene Peterson paraphrased it,

If any of you are embarrassed over me and the way I'm leading you when you get around your fickle and unfocused friends, know that you'll be an even greater embarrassment to the Son of Man when he arrives in all the splendor of God, his Father, with an army of the holy angels. The Message

Now, that passage is used to justify what I can only refer to as completely asinine behavior. "I'm not ashamed of Jesus and to prove it I will wear my Christian status louder and prouder than a college football fan at a bowl game."

But what if we rethink what it means to not be ashamed of Jesus and His words. I mean, what were His words any way? Let's start with the words He spoke literally in the same breath as those above, just prior,

Mark 8:34-35 Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

Some of His other words went like this...

John 13:12-14 When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.

Mark 9:33-35 And when he was in the house he asked them, "What were you discussing on the way?" But they kept silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. And he sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, "If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all."

Matthew 6:14-15 For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.

I John 3:16 This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.

So that gets me to thinking, maybe being ashamed of Jesus and His words means being too embarrassed to live exactly the way He did. Right? It's hard deny yourself. It's degrading to wash other people's feet, literally or figuratively. It's painful to give up what is life-giving for you, in order that someone else may experience what is life-giving for them. It's embarrassing, allowing yourself to be degraded. It's sometimes humiliating to forgive. It's shameful to be accused by religious leaders and teachers, to have them click their tongues as they exclude you. But it's the life we're called to.

Which leads me to conclude that following Jesus has absolutely nothing to do with being in the majority or rooting for the winning team. Nothing.

Something else Jesus said that I think we just get all kinds of wrong is,

Matthew 10:37 Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves their son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.

I've often heard this verse used to justify families disowning a member (or friends un-friending a friend) whose life does not live up to their Godly standards. Maybe that person doesn't share their Christian faith, or maybe they've converted to a different (and therefore wrong) denomination. Maybe they've embraced a "false doctrine". Maybe they're gay, or (worse?) they're straight, but they embrace gay people. To support them would be to love them more than we love Christ, right? So one must speak up - one is required to voice disapproval, to avoid all appearances of condoning evil. And so we've been told.

Well, the most striking thing I see about this verse is its context. Once again, here's what we find Jesus saying in the exact same breath. Sound familiar?

Matthew 10:38-39 Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.

Taking up a cross... following Jesus... losing our very life. I hear sacrifice. I hear giving up. I hear humbling. I hear lowering oneself to another's level, not building up walls of self righteous separation.

So what did He mean? I have some thoughts on that. Earlier Jesus had told His disciples this,

Mark 10:16-17 I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves. Be on your guard; you will be handed over to the local councils and be flogged in the synagogues.

See, the disciples had a message to share - a message of freedom, of good news! And those in power - both political and religious - were not going to like this message one bit. Not. One. Bit. What they had to say went against all the established teaching of the day. It broke rules. It probably spat in the faces of people who they loved and had loved them. It turned not only the world, but their worlds, upside down.

Jesus' disciples had to trust what had been revealed to them - what they believed to be Truth - despite a plethora of voices telling them otherwise. Their conviction had to withstand not only the wagging, accusing tongues of naysayers, but also the concerned entreaties of people who genuinely cared and feared for them. Turning a deaf ear to the former is much easier than ignoring the latter.

I believe that might be what Jesus what getting at, and - at least for me - it makes a world of difference. Because the first interpretation has to do with obeying the rules, even if it means breaking relationship. But the second has to do with following Jesus, even if it means breaking the rules. And since we find Him in the face of the other, following Him almost always involves opening ourselves up to relationships.

pondering ... with red eyes

2011-12-07T14:05:00.000-05:00

I created this video because I feel that this song expresses the heart of advent.

pondering what it means to be virgin

2011-12-06T10:51:00.000-05:00

excerpts of To Be Virgin, by Loretta Ross-Gotta

from Watch For the Light - Readings for Advent and Christmas

what matters in the deeper experience of contemplation is not the doing and accomplishing. what matters is relationship, the being with. we create holy ground and give birth to christ in our time not by doing but by believing and by loving the mysterious infinite one who stirs within. this requires trust that something of great and saving importance is growing and kicking its heels in you.

the angel summoned mary, betrothed to joseph, from the rather safe place of conventional wisdom to a realm where few of the old rules would make much sense. she entered that unknown called "virgin territory". she was on her own there. no one else could judge for her the validity of her experience.

she can measure her reality against scripture, the teachings of her tradition, her reason and intellect, and the counsel of wise friends. but finally it is up to her. the redemption of the creation is resting on the consent - the choice of this mortal woman to believe fearlessly that what she is experiencing is true. and to claim and live out that truth....

god asks us to give away everything of ourselves. the gift of greatest efficacy and power that we can offer god and creation is not our skills, gifts, abilities, and possessions. the wise men had their gold, frankincense, and myrrh... mary offered only space, love, belief.

be a womb. be a dwelling for god.

pondering fruit

2011-12-06T09:50:00.000-05:00

This is the most powerful compliment I've ever - and I dare say, will ever - receive. Humbled, and grateful for the people in my life who do love me unconditionally.

You know the Bible allows us to “judge a tree by the fruit that it bears”

and when I look at your kids, I see great fruit.

Our “fruit” is not always our children…

but your kids are all I have to go on and I love them.

We will probably go to our graves disagreeing on the whole homosexuality thing

but I am OK with that.

That doesn’t change my love for you…

so whether I agree or disagree with what you write will not change how I feel.

And that I KNOW,

even before I read it.

pondering incarnation

2011-12-05T12:04:00.003-05:00

I've been called out by The Screaming Kettle. I laughed out loud, nodding in agreement at number one, then raised my hand "guilty as charged" (while still laughing) at number 2.... but in all seriousness, I'm taking up their challenge. Here it goes.

Incarnation. Google dictionary defines it as,

A person who embodies in the flesh a deity, spirit, or abstract quality.
(in Christian theology) The embodiment of God the Son in human flesh as Jesus Christ.

Christmas is about THE incarnation. Madeleine L'Engle writes so beautifully about that here (shared from my friend Tracy). And so yes, I ponder that ... who couldn't ponder that? Mary had experienced it all first hand and she pondered it. The Incarnation. Amazing.

But I believe incarnation continues. Just as mysterious, just as ponder-worthy as God-Himself-in-Mary's-womb, the infinite God, our Maker, indwells us, is our very Spirit. The seeds of Truth planted there, the convictions of Love, the callings and challenges, are all meant to be incarnated - fleshed out - in very real, physical, human ways. To say "I believe" means nothing if there's no incarnation (James is ringing in my ears right now).

So I see the advent season and its culmination of Christmas as an invitation for us to participate more fully in this incarnated life, as truly incarnational people.

How?

Well, I can't tell you that and neither can anyone else. Incarnation means to embody what is already real. What is real within you? What Truths has the Spirit shown you, what changes has Wisdom wrought in your thinking, about which paths has She whispered, "Take that one".

Three years ago, incarnational living meant boarding a plane to Ukraine to go put flesh on our "belief" that orphans should be welcomed into families. Specifically, five-year-old-lanky-long-legged-big- grinned-loud-squealy-one-more-sloppy-wet-kiss-please flesh ... named Mary.

This year our family is living a new advent-ure (did you like that? wink) We are spending this season incarnating something that began with a twinge of conscience, then formed into thought, conviction, finally actual conversation... but never fully incarnation. Until now.

We have chosen to spend this season worshipping with a faith community that is completely (and specifically) unlike our "own", starting with the first Sunday of advent (a week from yesterday) and through Christmas Eve. What happens after Christmas is completely open-ended, as far as we are concerned.

How is this a big deal? To you it may not be. To us, it is. (this is our incarnation, go find your own!) Yes, it is a very big deal. We have spent 9 years highly involved in our current church. We know and love so many people there, it is a familiar and wonderful place for us. Now, for five weeks, we are loading up our four children and driving into the city. We walk up brick steps to a small sanctuary highly reminiscent of the small Baptist church we were married in almost 18 years ago. Only, it's not Baptist - as both my husband and I were raised. And it's not Presbyterian - as we later came to join. It's also not "modern", which is the only church our children have ever known - big screens and a full band and lights. It's a small, simple Lutheran church.

As we enter, there is a basin of holy water that we honestly don't know what we're supposed to do with, but I like that it's there. Everyone who greets us has a felt warmth about them. There are more gray heads than at our church, something else I like a great deal, but there are also wee ones who are always fun to see. The children are present for about 2/3 of the liturgy - only our youngest is trotted off for a brief "children's church" mid-service, then returns following the sermon and prayer for communion and more singing.

Speaking of the liturgy ... oh, the liturgy, it's so beautiful. And it makes so much sense! Our first week I told the children, "Follow along in your bulletin now (is it called a bulletin? program? can't remember...anyway!) We have to pay attention - this is like a script and we have lines to say! All the dark bold words, those are ours!" They ate this up. Even during the intercessory prayer, the one praying pauses at increments to say, "Hear us Oh Lord" to which we reply, "Your mercy is great". It keeps us all focused on what's being said and done, and I love it.

We sing - a LOT. I've decided, from the limited experiences I've had with Lutheran liturgy, that it must be a requirement for any Lutheran pastor to be able to SING. Much of what Pastor Nancy says/does is in song, and we love that, too. I also love that we use hymnals, but there's only a piano, no other instruments, which is a big change indeed.

Communion is held every week - every service - and is open to all. Our second week there I watched the pastor address each one of us, including each one of our children, correctly by name as she looked them in the eye and offered the body and blood, broken for them. That touched me. She also remembered to have a gluten free wafer, just for me.

The sharing of the peace is another highlight for us all. In our church, when they say, "Greet those around you" it's enough time to say hello to one or two folks nearby, then the service moves on. Not here. Literally every person in the sanctuary is going to make an effort to share God's peace with you. It takes quite a while and it's beautiful! And the children love it because they don't have to stand awkwardly wondering what they are supposed to say. What must sound very formulaic and stiff is actually the complete opposite - it's free and warm and... well, it's just beautiful. "God's peace be with you." "And also with you." Love that.

All that I've described is part of the adventure, but I haven't yet gotten to the truly incarnation-al motivation behind it. This church has one more defining characteristic, one that clearly differentiates it from our own. I'll let their website speak for itself,

At Holy Trinity, we believe being supportive of LGBT persons is a given for followers of Jesus Christ. We don’t talk about homosexuality as a sin, because we don’t believe it is one. We don’t accept gay people as long as they keep quiet about who they are (as in “don’t ask/don’t tell”). We don’t try to convert gay people to become straight. (Just as we don’t try to convert straight people to become gay.) We don’t welcome LGBT people into our community with any restrictions on their level of participation. We support all people in their loving relationships and encourage commitment to those relationships, whether they are straight or gay. We celebrate sexual orientation as a God-given gift, no matter what that orientation may be. We encourage all people to live authentically and fully as the people God created them to be. You can read Pastor Nancy’s personal statement here: Where I've Landed on Homosexuality and Why.

This is where incarnation comes in. We've been pondering over "the issue of homosexuality", we've been talking about "gay people", but we hadn't actually put flesh to any of that. We hadn't sat our own family down in a pew behind a family with two dads and three beautiful children (who appear to have been adopted from central America). We hadn't yet shared God's peace with a lesbian couple who are gushing over their new baby girl, who has a giant organza bow wrapped around her bald head. We hadn't yet kneeled to receive communion alongside elderly men and women who watched most of their friends leave their long beloved faith community because the church chose to adopt the above statement. They are straight - it would have been easy to leave too; yet, conviction led them to stay. Doing these things - this is incarnation for us, right now.

Is this permanent? That's not on the table right now. We've agreed to treat this as an advent-ure (that was too good not to use twice). A beautiful adventure. A scary adventure. One not without its consequences. Yet, an adventure that, so far, leaves me feeling more alive ... like I'm embodying my truth in a fresh, authentic way. Actually fleshing that out.

Incarnation.

There's my attempt at a Christmas blog post ... I hope The Screaming Kettle approves. I welcome feedback - questions, concerns ... I know this is a highly sensitive and potentially divisive topic. My only request is that you season it with Love.

pondering advent with Karl Rahner

2011-12-02T08:29:00.000-05:00

I am reading (and very much enjoiying) Watch for the Light ~ Readings for Advent and Christmas. This was today's reflection. Oh so very good.... probably the first advent reflection I've ever read that truly makes me say,
"Yes, ...that."

The Divine Dawning
Karl Rahner

Light of lights! All gloom dispelling,Thou didst come to make thy dwellingHere within our world of sight.Lord, in pity and in power,Thou didst in our darkest hourRend the clouds and show thy light.Praise to thee in earth and heavenNow and evermore be given,Christ, who art our sun and shield.Lord, for us thy life thou gavest,Those who trust in thee thou savest,All thy mercy stands revealed.St. Thomas Aquinas

Every year we celebrate the holy season of Advent, O God. Every year we pray those beautiful prayers of longing and waiting, and sing those lovely songs of hope and promise. Every year we roll up all our needs and yearnings and faithful expectation into one word: "Come!"
And yet, what a strange prayer this is! After all, you have already come and pitched your tent among us. You have already shared our life with its little joys, its long days of tedious routine, its bitter end. Could we invite you to anything more than this with our "Come"? Could you approach any nearer to us than you did when you became the "Son of Man," when you adopted our ordinary little ways so thoroughly that it's almost hard for us to distinguish you from the rest of our fellow men?
In spite of all this we still pray: "Come." And this word issues as much from the depth of our hearts as it did long ago from the hearts of our forefathers, the kings and prophets who saw your day still far off in the distance, and fervently blessed its coming. Is it true, then, that we only "celebrate" this season, or is it still really Advent?
Are you the eternal Advent? Are you he who is always still to come, but never arrives in such a way as to fulfill our expectations? Are you the infinitely distant One, who can never be reached?
Are you only the distant horizon surrounding the world of our deeds and sufferings, the horizon which, no matter where we roam, is always just as far away? Are you only the eternal Today, containing within itself all time and all change, equally near to everything, and thus also equally distant?
When our bleeding feet have apparently covered a part of the distance to your eternity, don't you always retreat twice as far away from us, into the immense reaches filled only by your infinite being? Has humanity drawn the least bit closer to you in the thousands and thousands of years that have elapsed since it boldly began its most exciting and fearsome adventure, the search for you?
Have I come any nearer to you in the course of my life, or doesn't all the ground I have won only make my cup all the more bitter because the distance to you is still infinite? Must we remain ever far from you, O God of immensity, because you are ever near to us, and therefore have no need of "coming" to us? Is it because there is no place in our world to which you must first "find your way"?
You tell me that you have really already come, that your name is Jesus, Son of Mary, and that I know in what place and at what time I can find you. That's all true, of course, Lord - but forgive me if I say that this coming of yours seems to me more like a going, more like a departure than an arrival.
You have clothed yourself in the form of a slave. You, the hidden God, have been found as one of us. You have quietly and inconspicuously taken your place in our ranks and marched along with us. You have walked with us, even though we are beings who are never coming, but rather always going, since any goal we reach has only one purpose: to point beyond itself and lead us to the last goal, our end.
And thus we still cry: "Come! Come to us, you who never pass away, you whose day has no evening, whose reality knows no end! Come to us, because our march is only a procession to the grave." Despairing of ourselves, we call upon you - then most of all, when, in composure and quiet resignation, we bring ourselves to accept our finiteness.
You promised that you would come, and actually made good your promise. But how, O Lord, how did you come? You did it by taking a human life as your own. You became like us in everything: born of a woman, you suffered under Pontius Pilate, were crucified, died, and were buried. And thus you took up again the very thing we wanted to discard. You began what we thought would end with your coming: our poor human kind of life, which is sheer frailty, finiteness, and death.
Contrary to all our fond hopes, you seized upon precisely this kind of human life and made it your own. And you did this not in order to change or abolish it, not so that you could visibly and tangibly transform it, not to divinize it. You didn't even fill it to overflowing with the kind of goods that men are able to wrest from the small, rocky acre of their temporal life, and which they laboriously store away as their meager provision for eternity.
No, you took upon yourself our kind of life, just as it is. You let it slip away from you, just as ours vanishes from us. You held on to it carefully, so that not a single drop of its torments would be spilled. You hoarded its every fleeting moment, so you could suffer through it all, right to the bitter end.
You too felt the inexorable wheel of blind, brute nature rolling over your life, while the clear-seeing eye of human malice looked on in cruel satisfaction. And when your humanity glanced upwards to the One who, in purest truth and deepest love, is called "Father," it too caught sight of the God whose ways are unfathomable and whose judgments are incomprehensible, who hands us the chalice or lets it pass, all according to his own holy will. You too learned in the hard school of suffering that no "why" will ever ferret out the secret of that will, which could have done otherwise, and yet chose to do something we would never understand.
You were supposed to come to redeem us from ourselves, and yet you, who alone are absolutely free and unbounded, were "made," even as we are. Of course, I know that you remained what you always were, but still, didn't our mortality make you shudder, you the Immortal God? Didn't you, the broad and limitless Being, shrink back in horror from our narrowness? Weren't you, absolute Truth, revolted at our pretense?
Didn't you nail yourself to the cross of creation, when you took as your own life something which you had drawn out of nothing, when you assumed as your very own the darkness that you had previously spread out in the eternal distance as the background to your own inaccessible light? Isn't the Cross of Golgotha only the visible form of the cross you have prepared for yourself, which towers throughout the spaces of eternity?
Is that your real coming? Is that what humanity has been waiting for? Is that why men have made the whole of human history a single great Advent-choir, in which even the blasphemers take part - a single chant crying out for you and your coming? Is your humble human existence from Bethlehem to Calvary really the coming that was to redeem wretched humanity from its misery?
Is our grief taken from us, simply because you wept too? Is our surrender to finiteness no longer a terrible act of despair, simply because you also capitulated? Does our road, which doesn't want to end, have a happy ending despite itself, just because you are traveling it with us?
But how can this be? And why should it be? How can our life be the redemption of itself, simply because it has also become your life? How can you buy us back from the law, simply by having fallen under the law yourself (Gal. 4:5)?
Or is it this way: is my surrender to the crushing narrowness of earthly existence the beginning of my liberation from it, precisely because this surrender is my "Amen" to your human life, my way of saying yes to your human coming, which happens in a manner so contrary to my expectations?
But of what value is it to me that my destiny is now a participation in yours, if you have merely made what is mine your own? Or have you made my life only the beginning of your coming, only the starting point of your life?
Slowly a light is beginning to dawn. I've begun to understand something I have known for a long time: You are still in the process of your coming. Your appearance in the form of a slave was only the beginning of your coming, a beginning in which you chose to redeem men by embracing the very slavery from which you were freeing them. And you can really achieve your purpose in this paradoxical way, because the paths that you tread have a real ending, the narrow passes which you enter soon open out into broad liberty, the cross that you carry inevitably becomes a brilliant banner of triumph.
It is said that you will come again, and this is true. But the word again is misleading. It won't really be "another" coming, because you have never really gone away. In the human existence that you made your own for all eternity, you have never left us.
But still you will come again, because the fact that you have already come must continue to be revealed ever more clearly. It will become progressively more manifest to the world that the heart of all things is already transformed, because you have taken them all to your heart.
Behold, you come. And your coming is neither past nor future, but the present, which has only to reach its fulfillment. Now it is still the one single hour of your Advent, at the end of which we too shall have found out that you have really come.
O God who is to come, grant me the grace to live now, in the hour of your Advent, in such a way that I may merit to live in you forever, in the blissful hour of your eternity.

pondering Nancy and Babe

2011-11-30T19:54:00.001-05:00

Nancy was my friend. At least, until she wasn’t.

Nancy was fun, friendly, kind. We had a lot of fun together.

Until the kids at the bus stop told me she smelled like urine. Turned out she did, due to a health problem of some kind, but I’d never noticed before. As we approached late elementary school, remaining friends with Nancy was social suicide. So I just stopped. I stopped being her friend. I never once bullied her, but I’m sure what I did was worse. I spit in the face of the years we’d spent carefree and happy. I acted like she didn’t exist.

I cared about Nancy, she was a wonderful friend and I enjoyed her company … until someone told me I wasn’t supposed to, and I listened.

Babe was a naïve little pig. All he knew was that the sheepdog Fly had offered to be his mom, and he loved her. Then Ma Sheep told him Fly was a wolf – vicious, cruel, and that Babe shouldn’t have anything to do with wolves. Babe could hear Fly barking and worried Ma was right. He spent that day in misery, second guessing his heart. Then Fly came home, kissed him, and tiredly asked how his day had been. Babe flew headlong into her love and swore to never think ill of any creature ever again. Not Fly – Not Ma – Not Anyone.

Babe was right.

I was wrong.

We moved away the summer after my sixth grade year. I have no idea what happened to Nancy. I'd love to find out. And I'd love to apologize.

Never again.

family advent

2011-11-27T23:29:00.005-05:00

We love this time of year. When we first learned about advent, we had no idea "how to do it" - now we settle right in. Every year I tweak things a bit, but we find comfort in the familiar, so much of this remains the same. I do try to find new scriptures and teach them a few new songs each year, but they still like to sing the old ones, too, so those get worked in spontaneously. :)

I've typed up this year's plan to print for easy reference, and thought - why not share? Much of this came our way because others shared with me. If you find any of this helpful for use with your family, enjoy. I've been looking forward to this for several weeks now, which I suppose is the essence of advent, isn't it? When you anticipate the season of anticipation...

Order:

Light candle/s.

Pray.

Read story. (this is our first year with this storybook, we'll see how we like it - mostly thinking of little Mary with this)

Discuss.

Read a passage of scripture (weekly theme)

Sing (weekly theme)

Recite Prayer (repeat nightly)

Sing O Come Emmanuel (repeat nightly)

Scriptures

Hope:

Psalm 25:1-7, Psalm 42, Psalm 130, Isaiah 40:27-31, Luke 1:5-17, Is 42:5-9, Isaiah 25:6-8, Luke 1:46-55, Romans 8:25

Peace:

Luke 1:26-38, Isaiah 9:6-7, John 14:27, Luke 1:67-79, John 20:21, II Cor 5:14-21, Philippians 4:6-7

Joy:

1 Chronicles 16:31-34, Psalm 16, Isaiah 35, Matthew 13:44-46, Romans 12:9-21, Hebrews 12:1-2, I peter 1:3-9

Love:

I Cor 13, Deut 10:17-19, John 13:34-35, I John 4:13-16, Mark 9:2-7, Luke 6:27-36, John 14:15-23

PRAYER (Henri Nouwen, nightly)

Lord Jesus,

master of both the light and the darkness,

send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.

We who have so much to do

seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.

We who are anxious over many things

look forward to your coming among us.

We who are blessed in so many ways

long for the complete joy of your kingdom.

We whose hearts are heavy

seek the joy of your presence.

We are your people,

walking in darkness,

yet seeking the light.

To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!” “Come Lord Jesus!” “Come Lord Jesus!”

SONGS:

O COME EMMANUEL (nightly)

O come, O come, Emmanuel, And ransom captive Israel, That mourns in lonely exile here Until the Son of God appear.