New Years Resolution

This is my resolution. This year will hold so many changes and surprises and beginnings and endings and as it stands now the colouring in of so much of our future. Though I don't want to think about it too much, this year will contain new pain and new struggles, worse, old struggles and old pain, and good things too: new adventures and new joys.

But God loves me in a special way and always speaks to me in fresh new ways. The image of a sea turtle is not exactly new for 2011 but it seems to be sticking. A little unusual, and I'm not exactly sure the practical application of this (God wants me to be a sea turtle?!) but I'm holding to it, and have some craft projects cooking in my mind. I have really wanted to do more abiding and by really going over who I am in Christ and asking Him how He sees me and why He loves me (and using that as my protective shell from getting defensive or hurt) who knows what life could look like?!

Happy New Year!

I am thankful for a time to set new goals, wash the slate clean and begin again...Especially because this year has ended leaving me feeling less than my best, wondering if I even have a best!

I hope to take some time this weekend or today to pray and write and work out what it is that God wants for my year- and how I can humanly accomplish some of that. I know that I don't want school to take over my life and yet still want God's will in that situation to be done, and for me to learn what it is He wanted me to learn. Who am I kidding? This year will probably be much like every other day and year: the challenging but rewarding following after God adventure, trying to stay on course with his pathways for my life. Maybe it is time again to take up the following prayer each morning:

I bind my mind to the mind of Christ
I bind my heart to the deep love of God
I bind my feet to the path you have called for my life
I bind my hands to receive all that you have for me and to bless all that they touch.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Advent week 3

Even though my mind hasn't been totally focused on advent I've been taking comfort and moments of silence to just dwell in the mystery of the Trinity.

Cathy Hardy, my spiritual director is a recording artist of taize style music, and this song of her album, "trust" came to mind this morning with those three candles lit: called "encircling"

The mighty three

My protection be

Encircling me

You are our home

My life my home

Encircling me

Oh Sacred three

The mighty three

advent week 2: bethlehem and preparation

Studying for finals. It is easy to think of how that relates to preparing. But, for some reason I've been picturing preparation to look more like 2 candles burning. One morning before a stressful practical exam I lit my advent log and sat beside it. There was some strength that I could draw from them, and what they meant- so close! So soon! Jesus!Hold on! Don't forget! He's coming!
Sometimes I could do all the preparing in the world for an exam, study everything I possibly could, and still it would be too late to make the information really stick in my head. Sometimes, and especially this week, preparing is about being vigilant. Keeping those two candles in my mind throughout the week...Remembering that there is something coming (or someone rather!) that will make all of this worth it.

And God. Tonight praying, I found myself really comforted by the request that HE goes on and prepares my future. We don't really need to worry about stepping out blindly, or going somewhere totally unknown. God has always gone before us; ahead of us. He is always preparing the right friends, the right home, the right jobs and schools. While I love to dream, my 5 year plans are a total joke. If God will guide me year by year than in most cases I'm able to jump right in, confident in the knowledge that He has already planned it out. He is already hiding, ready to step out and reveal His presence to me throughout my future experiences and days.

He sent Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem, but He had already reserved them a room. He had gone waaay ahead to the Sages, and to the Shepherds, and to that messy dirty stable. I'm so confident that He left his fingerprints all over whenever Mary or Joseph felt defeated along the way. He had prepared a place.

I'm so thankful for a God that has way more "beaver" in Him than me, who cares enough about me to prepare and set up wonderful miraculous things in my future. Who is planning things even for my next week, and my tomorrow and my 80th birthday...And for yours too.

Advent week two: bethlehem and preparation

My true age is one of three: 4 years old, 16 years old or 100 years old.

Today and lately I've been feeling sixteen: young, with so much pushing to prove who I am and what I can do. Overwhelmed by a future that seems so impossible to picture or grow into. Stepping through puddles of sadness that don't have reason or sense (thanks hormones!)
...And I've been reacting more like a four year old: hiding under the covers and having a good cry. Needing David's reassurance over and over. Behaving plain selfishly and foolishly with, "I won't I won't!" 's in response to tasks needing to get done.
...Which may all be due to my age of one hundred: all I really want to do is sleep because I feel so tired.

This week has started off with so much reluctance on my part. A wish for everything to stand still- to slow down. To have the Christ Child HERE not journeying first to some place I don't want to go, and can't afford to go. All the while carrying a baby whose future I don't know how to prepare for.
I wish I had the discipline of Mary. Or maybe she was reluctant like me, needing much encouragement and carrying. But I think she must have had a better grasp on the "why". Why go there. Why now. Why her.
I'm still struggling to admit that my heart is not yet a suitable place. That it is still full of coldness and locks and diseases. That only by walking the path that God has set for me will He surprise me in the most unlikely and impossible of places. Only then will He reveal his holiness and glory and fill my deep deep aches.

Advent week 1: prophecy and hope reflections

This week started out with much: friends and late nights, chaos and kids, late starts and a boiling temper.
...It seems to be ending with surprise and forgiveness, humility and grace, hope and a future, mounds of homework and a birthday date.
God really opened my eyes this week to the hope that I may have in Him.
- Meetings and retest taking that I dreaded, turning out okay
- More birthday love than was expected for a school day thursday; and a special wink from Jesus saying, "I notice you"
- God's providence again and again; reassurance that this is His joy
- Hope and trust for our little one after massaging at the at-risk pregnancy hospital that previous weeks had thrown me into panic
- Opening my heart to being more honest with God in prayer, asking for his cleansing, knowing that I am holy because of what HE has done and who HE is.

"...because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death to guide our feet into the path of peace." - Luke 1:78-79

Advent week one: prophecy and hope

(I would have posted earlier but our computer is having troubles and the weekend was full!)

Our Advent log is atrocious. I asked a classmate for some firewood that still had the rounded bark cover to one side. She gave me a wobbley, uneven, cut up ragged piece of wood about 2 inches thick at most. We tried for a couple days to carve out the candle holes with David's leatherman which didn't work, and finally on Sunday night we were able to drill holes with a borrowed electric drill (thanks Aimee!). We got it home and realized the holes were still much too small, and after attempting again to whittle with the leatherman decided just to shave down the bottom of our beeswax candles. David then meticulously melted pieces of the cut off wax to secure the candles in place. The candles stick out of the wood like skinny crooked teeth. When the log shifts onto one side all the candles lean so the wax drips onto the coffee table.

For some reason, I am in love with it. I sit beside it every morning to do my devotions and last night David and I had our official First Week of Advent lighting. Our living room still has sheets and pillows from guests this past weekend strewn about, mugs and books and papers that never find a home in files or the recycle bin. We turned off all the lights and I watched with childish excitement as David met the head of the match with its box and the flame grew. I didn't cheap out on the candles (pure beeswax...mmm) so it lit right away. We sat back and without deciding this between us, went into silence.

And I think this sort of thing needs some silence. This recognition for both of us that we are disheveled and junky and really don't look like much. But then the light is there, and it really does take all the focus. There was a moment looking at it that I didn't want to light the others; I couldn't imagine it looking any better than it did with just that one candle lit. Just one light was enough for me to feel a bit of hope that words spoken may just be true, and that I really can trust that God's promises aren't forgotten.

David and I daily wobble between excitement and joy with this pregnancy, and fear with the knowledge we don't have a clue what we're going to do. I'm going to take a try at believing God's light will guide me on a path of peace. It is so much more alluring and and curiously welcoming than the despairing dark corners I tend to find myself in.

Winter is coming...

The air has a bite to it. The leaves are almost all gone. Winter is coming...And with it my favourite season of the whole year: Advent.

I love Advent so much; I could probably do without Christmas day. I find so much room inside me to wonder and meditate on the truths and mysteries of Emmanuel and all that Advent hints at and points toward. Come, Lord Jesus.

Jesus coming to earth and embodying compassion so that when I experience pain and ridicule and discouragement, He is there to have experienced it all before me. Jesus coming to earth to embody justice so that when I wonder how to love and serve those in my community and world, He is there to demonstrate what love is. Jesus coming to earth and dying and rising so that when everything feels hopeless and beyond repair, He is there to offer forgiveness and new life and trustworthy promises. Really, four weeks is not long enough to meditate on the miracle of Christmas!

I want and plan to do a number of things to celebrate and mark Advent: meditations, candle lighting, some sort of "outreach" each week and hopefully some blog post for each week and its theme. We'll see. Last year I learnt so much about joy and fearlessness. I have some ideas for this year, but I'm sure that God does too for me; some powerful lessons about him his love and his kingdom. I can't wait.

But I'm curious...What are you doing for Advent?

I miss...

being out here. Or generally being out there. In the silence, and the God-made. In the natural greens and blues and browns...Among the smells and air and trees. Among the peace and joy and wonder.
It is going to be a long winter.

these two..

I've got to say: these two (three) feel so incredibly blessed loved supported and provided for. It is overwhelming and totally wonderful and absolutely appreciated. Thank you!!!!!!!!

wonder and thankfulness

Thankful I got out of school early today after my midterm. The rain was drenching the city, and I was cozy inside. Finally spent some time in quiet prayer.

I am so thankful for David. He is just the best.

I wonder about our friend Eleanor, walking across the street with her busted wheely-bag and no umbrella.

I am thankful for beeswax candles and the way they make night special

I wonder about the little one growing inside me

I am thankful for advent and my favourite season coming soon

I wonder about leaves and why certain ones turn certain colours, and in certain patterns

I am thankful for Jesus and how He never gives up on loving me

I wonder about the people I love. I love hearing from them. I wonder about new people who might come into my life.

I am thankful that the LORD is the stronghold of my life.

Henri's got something to tell me again

I have a couple friends, not really close, that, although I really really like them and admire them, I just can't get close to, or seem to think positively about. It isn't that they are greedy or obnoxious or stubborn. In fact, it is quite the opposite: from my perspective, they have no fears. They are gutsy, adventurous, smile through the worst, and seem to be gifted with the sunny path of life with few pebbles or obstacles. Which of course, must not be true, but they never speak of their fears or short comings. And I'm jealous of their fearlessness.

While I am adventurous and love the wild, I have a more than healthy sized fear and respect for everything I face. For me, hiking a mountain isn't just joyful, it is an accomplishment: facing my fears of being unable to climb or be fit enough, my fear of heights, my fear of getting stalked by cougars, my fear of dissapointing David, my fear of not being "outdoorsy" enough...The list goes on.

I've been afraid of a lot of things my whole life. A lot of my childhood memories are remembering being afraid of something! A staple song I sung well into my teenage years was, "whose in the middle of the dark...God is..." While I've certainly been on journeys to heal fears, I still think of myself as a fearful person deep down. "Perfect love casts out all fear" is a great mantra, but it is hard to access that perfect love all the time when you are deeply afraid. As faithful as God has been to me during times of fear in my life, I guess I needed a little bit more encouragement, especially as I compared myself (never a good idea!) to these seemingly fearless people.

I used to read a lot of Henri Nouwen. I devoured it. Just recently I read a quote from him that I haven't read for a long time and it just struck me deeply:

"Jesus dwells in your fearful, never fully received self...Where you are most human, most yourself, weakest, there Jesus lives. Bringing your fearful self home is bringing Jesus home"

I can't tell you how safe I feel knowing that Jesus lives in my fearful self. That where I feel most rejected and scared and weak is where Jesus embraces me?! Wowee. It feels good to my bones. And if it is true- that this is where Jesus lives, than I don't want to be like those people whose fears are securely hidden- I want Jesus front and centre! I want him out in the open! I want to see him daily! Working through my fears, showing me where he is, telling me he loves me, yes, even weak, human, fumbling,fearful elli.

partner

I love this man.

So much is happening around us and between and to us and in all of it I'm so grateful that I can experience and filter it and enjoy it with David. He fills me with life and peace and laughter, freedom, bravery, honesty, adventure, wonder, love and challenge and joy and so much hope.

Thank you God.

New mercies

"I remember it all...the feeling of hitting rock bottom.

But there's one thing I remember ,

and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:

God's love couldn't have run out,

His merciful love couldn't have dried up.

They're created new every morning.

How great is your faithfulness!

I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).

He's all I've got left.

God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits

To the woman who diligently seeks.

Its a good thing to quietly hope

quietly hope for help from God

It's a good thing when you're young

To stick it out through the hard times.

When life is heavy and hard to take

Go off by yourself. Enter the silence

Bow in prayer. Don't ask questions:

Wait for hope to appear.

Don't run from trouble. Take it full face.

The "worst" is never the worst

Why? Because the master won't ever

Walk out and fail to return

If He works severely, he also works tenderly.

His stockpiles of loyal love are immense.

He takes no pleasure in making life hard

In throwing roadblocks in the way..."

-Lamentations, THE MESSAGE

...did I mention fragile?

These last three weeks have made me painfully aware of how fragile I am.
I forgot that there are harsh reasons why not many flowers grow out of the rocks.
I've had a pretty smooth blessed life where if there's a set-back, it is usually my own fault and doing. But lately...

The rocks don't seem to stop. I'm a mixture of shock and disbelief and confusion. I've never experienced God like this before. Never without small glimpses. Never with my future hopes being pulled out like a rug from underneath my feet.

When God changes your shape, your body resists and it is painful. When God hides his face and you see clearly how weak you are and how meaningless it all is without him, it hurts! His Bigness is a huge source of sadness for me. I'm not seeing the Goodness in his Bigness.

I don't know what makes a flower grow on a mountain peak. Maybe it got there by a stray seed carried up by the wind. I don't know why or how it started to bud. I don't know what would possess you to blossom up there all alone, totally dependant for everything. Probably one day I'll feel blessed and honoured. Right now I'm grieving having to grow here.

Mountain meadows and a new promise

David and I recently went up to Garibaldi for a couple days during my term break. This was what I most wanted to do on my break; I really needed the rest. God literally carried me through the last three terms, as he promised, and it was exhausting! I always feel at peace in the mountains and trees. I photosynthesize like a plant. God is the exuberant creator, and these praisers have been here for thousands of years. I wanted to go somewhere out of the city to camp so badly, and with only slight wavering trusted that God would provide. And provide He did: A vehicle to get us there (a classmate let us borrow her car without even directly asking her!) an extra day off work for David so we could spend more time in the mountains, amazing weather the whole time we were there, safety and protection with only a minor injury the last hike down, fresh, good food offered to us by other campers, and the most amazing, unexpected beautiful colour filled mountain meadows.

A good friend and mentor of mine once told me that God sees me as a mountain wildflower. This image has stayed with me for a long time, and continues to encourage and allure me. Hiking is extra special because of this. Although I don't feel particularly far from God ever, I had lately been thinking about my faults and shortcomings, and how inadequate and unfit for the righteousness and holiness of Heaven I am. I was feeling pretty...dull and dirty. I was totally unprepared for God's love to manifest so expansive and beautiful for me.

Our camp spot was 7.5 km up the in the mountains in a gorgeous meadow with tiny creeks and wild flowers. I was snapping photos like crazy! So much colour and life and beauty! The air smells different, the sounds are softer, so much green...There is nothing nothing like the wilderness! This is definitely a place I could meet with God!

We were hiking up Black Tusk on the second day when the path opened up into about an hour long mountain meadow. It actually stole our breath and we just stopped and said, "wow". As far as we could see the area was filled with wild flowers: indian paintbrush, sitka valerian, lupine, and many more:

There were creeks of fresh glacier water trickling down the mountain feeding the flowers and the friendly buzz of bees. I'd never been to an area that beautiful before.

And then it really hit: this is for me. God's hidden creation going crazy between mountains. So alive and fresh and colourful and beautiful and wild. A gift for me to see and breathe in and appreciate.

The pictures don't do it justice, as they never do, but the real thing was such a real reminder for me of God's love-his specific and intentional love- towards me. He knows how to woo me, how to pull me in again when I get fogged up by the city and who He is to everybody else.

I literally just realized as I write this that this is the promise I need for the new school terms. God carried me through the last three, as he promised in my theme verse. But this is a new term, with new challenges. He says I am a mountain flower, able to grow and thrive in the most unlikely spots. And I do want to thrive and live and bring life and mature. I want to bring bright purple to rocky grey. I want to be tough, but delicate.

On the same hike up Black Tusk, at 7600 ft, after inching up volcanic rock slide to get to the top, nothing but snow and black stone, we discovered flowers growing out of the rock:

God, may you make me a symbol so powerful. Amen.

enough

God alone is enough.

Let nothing upset you,

let nothing startle you.

All things pass;God does not change.

Patience wins all it seeks.

Whoever has God lacks nothing:

God alone is enough

- St Teresa Avila

Balance

When you lean too far one way, you've got to correct yourself with an exaggerated weight shift to the other side...But not too much or you'll fall. Concentrate on the centre line.

The more I look around, the more I open my eyes and really notice...
All of creation is supporting me.
The trees use their branches to lift me up
The wind pushes at my slouching back
The sun sends energy into my palms and eyes
Friends laughter feeds my empty stomach
Hugs give me rest.
My ficus, asparagus fern, aloe vera and jade plants tell me to thrive
Davie Street traffic noises say life will continue
Finally the apartment is clean.
And once again, I'm dreaming big plans and big pictures
Wobbley. Shakey. Cautiously.
Walking.

Balance might really just be hope and trust. No step feels secure, yet it doesn't make me slip. I don't know who God is. I'm really only beginning to know who I am...and if that even matters. I don't know how to live the good life. But I think I have it in spite of me. I pray in the promises of the true friend. That He carries me, sustains me, gives me balance, for His namesake.

"Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my saviour, and my hope is in you all day long" - Psalm 25:4-5

Dry cup

Uh oh.

I recognize this feeling.

I have very little energy for school. Zero motivation and no concern for test marks.

Tragic things happen to class mates and I have no sympathy.

The wise and peaceful path is rejected for the path of least resistance.

Everything starts to be a bigger deal than it is. And if I can actually realize that, that in itself is energy.

I could say I just need sleep, but I'm on a week long streak of nightmares (seriously).

My prayers sound more like pleas, and I don't fall into my usual delight in conversation with God. I'm crouching away, much to my frustration.

My glass it seems, is running dry. I recognize the signs. I know how this is. Although before I've been able to avoid it, the truth is I've done a really miserable job of resting this year. Part my fault, part that circumstances are difficult. How frustrating! My mind sends me in winding cylindrical tornadoes of no good: well life isn't about me there are people out there with much worse situations complaining won't do any good but i can't do anything else i've got no energy i don't want to be miserable but i don't know if i can recognize where to make the choice...

My Mom used to tell me when I was in a bad mood to go and help someone. This usually always does help, but I'm afraid that I don't have any overflow to give. Giving takes so much energy. And I think I know that energy comes from spending time receiving from God, but my actions don't resemble this type of knowledge.

I don't know if this summer has found you busier than you'd like, or more exhausted than you expected. I do have a warning: that this unrest must be met with rest. That tension must be let go to receive comfort, despite how selfish it may look or feel. That my striving must be stripped off and covered with grace. That I must say, "I'M STILL LEARNING ABOUT ALL OF THIS!!" and receive humility and grace. Oh God-Dad. Fill my cup.

Personal ritual 1

Growing up, my sister and I were constantly burying things in our yard. We had a collection of beautiful rocks that we’d placed in the small garden by the App’s fence, a beaded necklace in the bald patch of dirt where the maple tree from the neighbor’s bent over exhausted into our yard. We’d barter the leaves in transition colors to one another in fall; they were so beautiful. We never thought to press them between our Parent’s thick blue speckled Dictionary and keep them forever.

I buried coins in a sock, and never found it again, deep in the forest of tamaracks behind our house. It was mostly pennies. Another one barely lasted a year. It was more of an experiment really, glue gun sealed shut. I had made that one with a friend, which is something I never did usually- share my secrets. The candies made it through the winter, but I didn’t want to eat them.

I think of how the owners of the house must respond now, when digging up the gardens to find bald Barbies with duct-tape outfits, cracked glass marbles, letters wedged into plastic bottles. It wasn’t just outside either: the letters that could fit behind the fireplace edging, poems stuffed in corners of closets, glass figurines in crawl spaces, the space between the floor and what we though was an immovable china cabinet (when we realized the new owners might move it we tried desperately to scoop out the secret over dramatic notes we had slid in years before). I hope they aren’t found yet.

The spark for all of this hiding and burying may have started from old pirate movies we used to watch as kids, or from the miraculous discovery of a 1900’s reader in our neighbor’s tree house. It was old, their own kids into their late twenties. Buried under some dry rusty leaves was this fantastic moldy book. We didn’t take it down from the tree house, even though we’d be the last ones to ever go up there. It was fascinating to think of what this book meant, whose it was, and why they never came back up for it. I loved the idea of burying secret treasures, and imaging the thousands of other people who might be doing the same thing. Burying treasures and stories. Who knew how many trinkets were littering the soil underneath yards?

I was always on the search for treasure hunts. I assumed that others would be too, and I wanted them to actually find something. Even now, sometimes I pick up objects that I find.

God still speaks to me this way, giving me hints to where truth might be found, hiding where I don’t think he’ll be, littering my path with treasures that mean something to only the two of us. He is always reminding me that what is buried underneath, unseen, can be of infinite worth; so close to budding and sprouting up.

Admittedly, if David and I had a yard, I would probably be burying things in it. This probably ups my weirdness level. Maybe I’m part dog. Scattering my belongings in places only I know about. Gathering up my dreams and burying them…Hoping and waiting to see if new growth will come. Something me buried, my stories, all around.

Breath-life

" The hand of the Lord was upon me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of dry bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, "Son of man, can these bones live?"

I said, " O Sovereign Lord, you alone know". Then he said to me, " Prophesy to these bones and say to them,' Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you,and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord". -Ezekiel 37:1-6

Read through twice slowly.

Does a word or phrase stand out to you? What is the passage inviting you to?

Is there an area of life that you see as lifeless, dry, hopeless, ineffective? Ask Jesus to reveal such a place to you. Ask Jesus what he plans to do with that place.

Is there an area God wants to breathe life into? Ask God to rule sovereign over that place.

Have you been believing a lie about God's powers to create? Have you been trying to bring things to life without God?

Sit with this passage, breathing.

Inhale...God's living breath in you

Exhale...Your fears of the dyings and dust in you

Inhale...God's new life

Exhale...The life that "seems right"

Inhale...God's powerful love for you

Exhale...The compulsion to work for it

Inhale...

Exhale...

" And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them..."

a general sense

I don't know what it is (perhaps a Good God) but despite a messy apartment with too many crafts and projects left undone, crazy school schedule and a large obsession with winning the lottery, I find myself with a general sense of wellbeing. Yahoo!

I am so grateful for David

I am so grateful for the sun and the reflection off the apartments that gives us light for an extra hour it seems

I am so grateful our apartment didn't burn down last night when we forgot hot oil on the stove and it burst into flames

I am so grateful for people that smile at me while I'm walking, or on the bus

For the lady at Capers with an obnoxiously large crystal necklace

For the truth that simplicity is better

For the amber necklace

For frozen waffles from Capers

I miss old friends and the chance to connect with them. I miss having creative productivity. But life is good. Now I've got to go do the dishes.

I went against my will and I'm here
Because I forgot my coat.

I wonder
Am I following the true-est thing?

I dance with strangers on the beach while old men watch
I breathe and savour washing my hands with warm water
I try to avoid dark staircases dark hallways darkness
and phone calls

I talk and reveal too much and this makes me uncool.
Clothes and food make me angry

I am sure I'll never be happier than when we laugh together in bed about something
only we would laugh about it is sweet pure sound.

I pray heart attacks (myocardial infarcts)
I pray heart attacks for people I don't like
and then
I take it back
And instead pray for me to see them differently
reluctantly

Too often its a third person view and I
think about thinking that I'm thinking I'm thinking

I am violently and recklessly everywhere in my thoughts
And I don't stop
not for sleep
not for prayer
not for sex

This is what I fall back on
When I breathe I know for certain that
only God could tame me
love me
attract me
distract me
pull me into such devotion and loyalty

That I'd be here
Because of a coat

hold and release

" The inward reality of simplicity involves a life of joyful unconcern for ones possessions. Neither the greedy nor the miserly know this liberty. It comes from an inward spirit of trust."

I've been thinking a lot about holding and releasing.

Holding onto what energy I do have, not giving my time away to others or to God, thinking that if I do, I'll be left empty...

...And releasing that lie, spending exhausted hours with children who God speaks through to say that He loves me using our very personal symbols.

Holding onto my money and carefully laying out what I'll buy with what money worrying about money when I'm richer than most people in the world...

...And releasing by realizing that if God takes my wallet out of my purse he does it for a reason, and lo and behold I am still provided for and taken care of.

Holding onto my pride and stubborness selfishness and defensiveness..

...And releasing it with apologies and tears.

Holding onto my striving and self-improvements

...And releasing myself into the spacious and refreshing freedom of God's grace.

I often reason in my head that holding on makes better sense. It seems safer. But there is no abundant life there. There is no real peace or love there. You can't get filled if you've put the cap on.

May God show us what we're holding on to...

And invite us to release ourselves from fear...and into trust.

monday grace and prayer

You say grace before meals.

All right…

But I say grace before the concert and the opera,

and grace before the play and pantomime,

and grace before I open a book,

and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip

the pen in the ink.

- GK Chesterton

Where do you need to say grace in your life?

Where do you need to accept God's grace?

Where in your life do you find it the hardest to believe in grace?

Have you been believing a lie about God and his grace?

Think of a time when you received or gave grace...What did it feel like? What happened?

Most Gracious God-Dad,

We pretend like we can't run to you when we fail- but you're gracious.

We think we have no worth- But you gave it to us.

We act like everything depends on us- But it depends solely on you. And you love us.

Thank you. Help us to receive and even ask for grace this week. Yikes! Help us to be brave.

Amen.

Why trees

I love to talk to people. I love having conversations that build and grow and excite me with new revelations and thoughts. I love sharing where I am in my faith. I do however, embarass myself sometimes with what I say, or the length of time I just continue talking, not fully articulating what it is, too excited to think before I speak, flailing my arms and twisting my face.

A couple of days ago I was talking a lot during a life-group Bible Study. I was talking too much. Part of my compulsion to talk is that I process out loud. Anways, I don't have a lot of grace for myself in this. Later in the night I had a little epiphany about it. I don't have many other friends who want to sit around with me and just talk about God. I could fill my whole day with it. When I do finally get my once a week chance to talk and share, I gorge. This little realization gave me so much peace and forgiveness. It is hard to be tender with oneself when you are a "needs less" rather than "needs more" person. I don't need to share more or risk more or talk more. I have intensity and obnoxiousness and loudness. I need so much less of those things.

Part of why I love trees relates to this in a round about way. They take up space. Sometimes a lot. It is often in an inconvenient area of town that a tree decides to branch out and fill up as much sky room as possible. A tree that is tangled and knotted with branches dissecting into more branches is so beautiful to me. The more they put out there, the more I appreciate them.

I don't have much of a vocabulary. But I do have passion for the things I write and speak about.
To put my little thoughts out into the world is always a risk. May I be reminded by possibly the second greatest creation ever that growing big and branching out isn't neccessarily a bad thing. I may not be able to change it...And maybe God doesn't really want to.

under the sun

"...I wanted to see what was worthwhile for men to do under heaven during the few days of their lives..."

The few days.

Although I can't see ahead of me I imagine it to be a string of memories. Maybe 20 more, to be a bead on my life necklace. When I really think about it, the past 24 years are reduced to a few days I keep with me. They loop around in my head, almost daily: the first memory, of standing in Medicine Hat on the sidewalk, barefoot. Ants making hills in soft brown sand between the cracks of cement. There is the smell and feel of spring in Kimberley, of walking home from school, running on the field grass. There is the memory of deep confusion and loneliness. There is the memory of pure joy, dancing around mirror lake alone at night. They are all just a few days of significance.

Life for me is really just getting into the swing of things. I'm not able to look back on 50 years and finally understand. I do however, when hearing this verse, think about making my days count. Really. Not even just for God (when is a day not for God? If I'm up and smiling its His doing!) but to know I've really lived. I live in a country where I can have anything I want (well, besides clean air silence and sequoia trees) and have health and a pretty good functioning brain (talk to me after school is done). Yet, because everything is at my fingertips, I don't want to sit back and say I'll do it when the sun is out. I don't want to waste.

Then I realized it is good and proper for a man to eat and drink and to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given him- for this is his lot. More-over, when God gives any man wealth and possessions and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work- this is a gift of God.

I guess for me, the best way not to waste my days is to appreciate them. To say thank you for them. To acknowledge the gifts that have been given to me- the challenges God has presented me with. I pray God continues to fill me with His gladness of heart.

Spirit

Spirit

You are a reckless creative resident within me. I don't know how to address you.

Take my silence as respect. Take my silence as apology.

Take my silence as a plea. I love you.

Don't ever leave me. Don't ever leave me.

Carry me..

Instead of studying today I fell asleep in the hot sun for 4 hours. My exhaustion level is peaking. It isn't just school either, meaning the workload. It is the difficult social interactions with the hurt confused angry unforgiving prideful and fearful. It is the self examinations to find I'm pretty much in the exact same boat. It is the questions I have, the concerns for others, the prayers I am still waiting on. It is the frustration aimed at myself for not being able to see past all of this.

The verse chosen for me this year is Isaiah 46:4 "Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you. I will sustain you and I will rescue you."
How can I be like me when I have this kind of promise? I'm a special case. But just in case you are too...Here is a song that goes through my head a lot. "River Constantine" by Jars of Clay

Carry me, your love is wider than my need could ever be
Come to me, and I will walk along your shore line
Feel your crashing waves sing in time
With the beating of my heart

Pour out, come down on me
Pour out, come down on me

River deep, could I know you as well as you know me?
Constantine, will we travel faster farther
than these legs could ever trustworthy be?

Pour out, come down on me
Come down, pour out on me


* picture by Beatrice Alemagna

Save us from

Save us from night,
from bleak open highways without end,
and the fluorescent oasis of gas stations,
from the gunning of immortal engines past midnight,
when time has no meaning,
from all-night cafes,
their ghoulish slices of pie,
and the orange ruffle on the apron of the waitress,
the matching plastic chairs,
from orange and brown and all unearthly colours,
banish them back to the test tube,
save us from them,
from those bathrooms with a moonscape of skin in the mirror,
from fatigue,
its merciless brightness,
when each cell of the body stands on end,
and the sensation of teeth,
and the mind's eternal sentry,
and the unmapped city
with its cold bed.
Save us from insomnia,
its treadmill,
its school bells and factory bells,
from living rooms like the tomb,
their plaid chesterfields
and galaxies of dust,
from chairs without arms,
from any matched set of furniture,
from floor-length drapes which close out the world,
from padded bras and rented suits,
from any object in which horror is concealed.
Save us from waking after nightmares,
save us from nightmares,
from other worlds,
from the mute, immobile contours of dressers and shoes,
from another measureless day, save us.

- Roo Borson

Just you.

Just your presence God.
Just you.
Not the pleasure of it
Not the joy or the peace
Not the rose outlook
Not the answers

Just your presence God.
Just you.
Not my imaginings
Not my boxes and ideas
Not what I want to hear
Not what I am comfortable believing
Not because I am sick of my own weak presence though I am

Just your presence God.
Just you.
Not in a form I think I know
Not at a time I make room for
Not because I am anxious

Not because I should
Not because of anything I've ever done or not done or attempted
Not because I love you
Not because of anything to do with me at all

Just your presence God.
Just you.

Monday April 12- Emmaus

Do you sometimes find yourself on the road to Emmaus? You've just experienced some amazing spiritual highs, or incredibly close times with God.Then, as they always do,the weeks pass. Are you like me? Do you somehow find that you've forgotten who is walking beside you? That this dear friend has become somewhat of a stranger, unrecognizable?



Scripture reflection: Luke 24:13-35 On the Road to Emmaus



1. Imagine yourself walking down the dirt road to Emmaus with Jesus. Is it a sunny day? Rainy?Feel the dirt being kicked up onto your sandals. Like the two disciples, maybe it is hard to see Jesus' face, to really recognize him. There is so much talk about what is going on, and who Jesus is.

2. Ask Jesus if you have been believing any misconceptions about him. Have you been believing a lie about Jesus? Have you created a Jesus that isn't real?

3. Thank Jesus for revealing himself to you. Ask him to replace the lie with a truth. Continue to walk with him. Do you have anything you really want to get off your chest? Share it with Jesus. See how he responds.

4. Listen and receive Jesus' love, continuing to walk with him. Is he inviting you to anything? Is he promising you anything?

God of mercy and compassion, your Word calls us home to faith and love. Accept all we offer you today, and help us to continue to receive all you have given. In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

Lectio and thoughts for Monday April 5

(Read through 2-3 times slowly. Pray for a word or phrase to stand out for you. Sit with it. Ask why it may be these words or phrase for you at this time. What are you being invited to? Say a prayer of thanks for this revelation)

Psalm 67

May God be gracious to us and bless us

And make His face to shine upon us

That your ways may be known on earth

Your salvation among all nations

May the peoples praise you O God

May all the peoples praise you

May the nations be glad and sing for joy

For you rule the peoples justly

And guide the nations of the earth

May the peoples praise you O God

May all the peoples praise you

Then the land will yield its harvest

and God, our God will bless us

God will bless us

And all the ends of the earth will fear him

Update

Easter this year, felt a bit like New Years. As though it is at Easter we should make new resolutions and put to death the things of "last year". I am going to go with that feeling.
Instead though, of making lenten and January resolutions of not eating sugar, exercising more etc etc I want to just TRUST. Trust that what I do get done is enough. Trust and feel God's presence and mercy and love. Trust that He's guiding me. Trust that I'm loved and beautiful. Trust in a future I couldn't possibly have imagined or created for myself.

David is almost home (4 days!) and I can hardly contain myself. This month alone has been so challenging, overwhelming spiritually, but also really really good. I really let myself experience the spaciousness in my life. Instead of marching through the grid-lines of an hour by hour schedule, I let myself breathe. Instead of racing out the door in the morning, disheveled and chaotic, I prayed. Instead of occupying myself at all hours of the day, I sat on the couch, in silence, with a cup of tea and just sat there. No music, no agenda, no major thought or dilemma.
I learnt how to be a little bit more at peace. I learnt how to be a better wife! I'm excited to see how or if I can continue in this way when David gets back, or if I will be stepping into a new learning environment. Either way, there will be no beating myself up over it!

One goal I do have, however: I actually started to like blogging. WHAT?! I still want to make it more useful. I hope to make Monday the day I can post a Lectio Divina or other listening exercise for anyone to do if they choose throughout the week. I'll still blog when I feel the need, too. I need to have some intentional listening time for myself, and I know people go on the computer more than they would like. So if you happen to be wandering around and stumble on my page, maybe you can do the exercise, or maybe it can be a reminder that there are more important things to be doing than looking at a friend of a friends facebook photos.

God is very near. He is so close. I often get the sensation of him breathing, and I want to listen. I want to quiet down and listen carefully. Even in his breathing, he is saying something important.

Jesus in the Elevator

When I was a young girl, from about 11-14, I had a lot of dreams about the after-life, and Jesus coming. Even now, every so often, Jesus will show up in my dreams.

One in particular, when I was about 14, I'll never forget.

Jesus came to my school in an elevator. He came down to my floor level and the doors opened up. Inside the elevator were some girls from my class and confetti and music. They were having a party with Jesus, and I knew they were going up to Heaven.
Jesus looked at me, looked at the floor button panel and asked if I wanted to come up.

"Maybe next time" I said.

I think I knew there wouldn't be a next time. I remember being really jealous and put off that the other girls were with Jesus, and seemed to be having a super great time.

The big thing was that I didn't like those girls.

Can I say that? I do not like everybody. I think I've tried to block out where my heart has been holding love from people, in attempts to feel that I am actually being a "good christian" and caring for everyone. Is that an unwritten rule in our lives? That we can't talk about the seriously negative feelings we hold against people?As a whole, I don't think we talk about having "enemies". It has recently been coming up a lot in my life. I prayed for God to teach me to love all people like he does, and immediately I resisted the idea that everyone is worthy of God's love. It is a little scary to say that out loud. I do not think loving people is easy. Actually it is impossible without God.

So, remembering that dream again, it causes me to think about why I was so against getting in the elevator with Jesus and those girls.

I like people, but when it comes to me and Jesus, our relationship is intimate. I don't want to share it with anyone else. I have a great husband; probably the best in the whole world (but he loves me- so back off!!) While I make sure he knows how I feel about him, I don't go around flaunting it, or bragging. Really, our relationship is too deep and complex to properly convey it to anyone. I think that about my relationship with God; how are you supposed to explain to someone that God is my greatest lover, gracious Father, Spirit living in me and my closest friend?

Also, admitting that God loves the people who have hurt those I love or just drive me absolutely crazy is a hard pill to swallow. It makes me want to puke!

Sometimes the answers are so simple and straightforward and beautiful. Loving your enemies and praying for them isn't easy at all. At least, it doesn't come naturally to me. Tonight we were led at Life Group to do a fun type of intercessory prayer. I was so excited; I had so many people on my heart. Then God flipped it upside down for me. All the names of people he was bringing to my mind were people I DESPISED! Not just that bugged me or had hurt me, but people whose very names make my heart pound and give me the creeps or make me cringe and clench my jaw. He wanted me to pray for them. I wanted to vomit. And even though I did write down their names and give them to God, I didn't do it very willingly. As soon as I got home I cried and cried. It is exhausting and so unfamiliar to me to pray for THOSE people. Even now, I'm verging on anxiety. It is SO against my nature.

But I really do want to learn. I can't believe I'm even saying that. On one hand I know that people who distress me and anger me will always spring up in my life, so it is best to just deal with it. On the other hand, God's upside down kingdom pulls and pulls at my curiosity. I really do want to experience it- no matter the pain involved. The freedom on the other side must be glorious! Still I wonder how this will look in the coming days. I wonder, even with God, if this is truly possible.

I wonder, if I had that dream again, and Jesus came down with some people I hate, if my uncensored dream self would hop in, or if I'd wait again for an elevator that isn't making a second trip down.

Lent fast failure

As always, I gave up sweets for Lent this year.
Only I forgot and ate a fortune cookie...And made apple crumble with brown sugar.
Three days into Lent.

I'm actually quite happy. It made me think.

I'm not satisfied with the , "give something up, take something on" approach to Lent. Does the why ever get asked? Not the, "to be healthier, to spend less" but the real why?

Every year I've tried to give up sweets or sugar for Lent. I always fail, and so, feeling bad, quit Lent. But that is the thing: you can't quit Lent, because you can't win or fail. I've been going through Lent like I go through life- subconsciously trying to be perfect, focusing on sticking to my resolutions (which doesn't happen), forgetting that I CANNOT BE PERFECT? Which is why we NEED Christ, and what his whole life is about??!?

My advent was beautiful.It was rich; it had depth meaning and many conversations with God. Because of that, my Christmas was powerful. I'm really thinking my Lent should be the same. Different revelations, different lessons. Like that one about grace I keep forgetting.

The cross and all it stands for often escapes me. I just don't contemplate it enough. I think it makes me uncomfortable. In the cross, is my wholeness, freedom, closeness...and it stands there. Patiently (which it certainly doesn't have to do) quietly (which it really doesn't have to do) and with the most graceful and gentle invitation.

My Lent this year isn't going to be 40 days of trying to be perfect. Maybe the exact opposite: realizing and admitting to all my broken and grungy places- and inviting Jesus there.

Maybe I'll start with my super huge sweet tooth ;)

Joan of Arc

Our life group went to see a performance on the trial of Joan of Arc.

I did a little research about her when I got home.
The first time she heard "voices" she was twelve in a field. She didn't want to leave because the voices were so beautiful.

Sometimes God is predictable. He takes the peasant and turns them into a saint. He takes the woman and turns her into a military hero. He takes that which isn't and makes it into something which is- impossibly- for his glory. It all points to him.

During her trial, right before she was killed, she stopped herself and said that she had committed a terrible sin- denying God for fear of death. Despite all the incredible things that God accomplished through her, she had serious guts. She once tried to escape her imprisonment by jumping out of a 70 foot high window. She returned to battle after an arrow wound in the neck! And yet, she was human. She feared for her life. But she didn't stop. She set things right before she died.

It is said that her wisdom and choice of wording during her trial had those persecuting her stupified. To me that word means, "God put those words in her mouth".

Ultimately this nineteen year old girl died a martyr. She was so so so brave.

It leads me to wonder what it means. For us, for me. I know I'm pretty extreme but it makes me think of our shallow comfortable culture and how we worry about what we'll wear or eat and if we "fit in" and how to entertain ourselves and keep ourselves occupied. Occupied for fear of being silent and open. For fear of being used by God for incredible purposes. I honestly do believe that there are stories of this magnitude God wants to write in our day and age. I feel the urgency. I feel the urgency for even subtle miracles. i pray and PLEAD that God fills my heart and mind and ears and I don't occupy myself. I don't want to be too busy to be used by God. That terrifies me!

Joan of Arc, as controversial as she may be has become one of my mentors. May I listen to the beautiful voices of heaven and remain faithful to them.

finding a pulse

I was talking today with a history major about some of the atrocious things people did to other people in the "name of Christ". He went to a Catholic school and was taught by nuns (and I'm assuming had a fairly negative experience, seeing as he is a homosexual). Someone added to the conversation how there isn't really a need for God when Science can explain everything and the power of positive thinking and self realization meets the needs. Another person piped into the conversation saying that Churches today in Vancouver are social hang outs and not much more.

And I felt very ashamed. I know that what they are viewing as Christian is far from the truth, but there is truth to the fact that that may be all they know of us. I've really been trying to tap into my freedom- the freedom I have to be joyful and fearless, comfortable in my own skin without guilt,full of peace and humility and patience, but I still struggle with squirming out of the "christian expectation". To testify when ever needed, to witness, to evangelize to guide and confess and share to worship to "shine my light" and sprinkle my salt. Mostly I was ashamed because I knew that what they were saying (well except for the no need for God part) was true- especially about churches in Canada. I was ashamed for lukewarms "christians" everywhere.

Because lately I've been searching for the deepest truest most sincere love filled and overflowing people and they haven't come from the churches or christians i know (of course, there are exceptions...but it shouldn't have to be just exceptions). Where are the groups of Christians who BELIEVE and act out of that belief? Who selflessly give, not worrying about their city status? Who reflect Jesus' non mushy very real and transforming compassion? Where are these people whose lives look different? Who can testify to Gods GENTLE but enormous POWER to change? Is Christianity totally changing? What would God say about "his followers" in this day and age?

I am most certainly guilty of not living a God pleasing Jesus following life. Jesus was a radical man. When did I ever get the idea that following him would not look radically different?

I still try to love my God and still know that deep deep reality that Jesus lives, and I know that there are people who've taken the call seriously. I just wish Vancouver could see it.