Advent Waiting

It seems I can't escape the waiting. I'm starting to wonder if it's time to move or time to keep waiting.

Right now it's Advent - the beginning of the church year - and a time defined by waiting. Waiting for the birth of the Christ child. Waiting for the Son of God to join us here on Earth. Waiting for redemption and the fulfillment of millenniums of hope.

The church I attend keeps talking about active waiting. This isn't just sitting and seeing what will happen but being diligent in our relationship with God, getting to know Him better while pursuing life to the best of our ability in the midst of uncertainty, with expectation.

I like the concept very much and try to do it. But there are days, kind of like today, where that is a tall order. Sometimes the wait overwhelms me and I feel paralyzed.

We know Zechariah felt like that. He had waited his whole life for a child but was getting old. Then, one day, God came and spoke to him. His barrenness (actually Elizabeth's) would end and life would come to their family. Not only would they have a son, but he would be highly regarded and prepare people for the coming of the Lord. When Zechariah doubted the angel, he lost his voice until he was able to name the child.

Another person waiting for a miracle was Simeon. He was told he would see the Messiah before he died. He went to the temple one day and saw the child, Jesus. He knew this was the one.

"Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,
according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel." (Luke 1:29-32)

And finally Anna, the prophet, was waiting too. She was a widow who worshipped at the temple day and night. As soon as she saw the Christ child, she shared with others that redemption had come to Israel.

All of these characters in the story of God's incarnation were waiting. They were waiting to see what God was going to do in their lives and what God was going to do in their community. The continued in their daily lives, doing what they always did, but then God intersected their stories and their lives were changed. All there characters encounted a life changing event - having a baby, Simeon blessed Him, and Anna started to share the good news! My hunch is that nothing was the same after this encounter. That life was different.

I know in my life that day is coming. Whatever it is going to look like, what God hopes to do with me, will be revealed and there will be no question about what is going on.

So may Advent be a season of waiting - for Christ for come - for God to guide and direct my heart.

We wait, dear Jesus, we wait.

Song of the Moment

Songs have a tendency to speak into a place in my life. I stick with one song (sometimes an album) that just won't let go for months. For instance, during my last months at seminary I was stuck on TobyMac, Portable Sounds. It accompanied me everywhere.

There have been a few since then. Most recently it was "Whatever You're Doing (Something Heavenly)" by Sanctus Real.

But a new song is now running through my brain at regular intervals. It is off the new Jars of Clay album, The Long Fall Back to Earth. The song is "Don't Stop". A big part of it is the melody. It is so catchy, it's hard not to enjoy it. The rift at the beginning and end is especially singable. However, the message of the song speaks into the fragility of life right now. We have to hold onto belief even when it gets difficult.

"Don't Stop" - Jars of Clay
You told them that I hung the moon
It was a lonely sliver hanging from the sky
I said I put it there for you
I didn't think that it would make you cry

Don't stop, don't stop for me now
don't stop, don't stop for me now

My recurring dream of you
Starlight in your eyes and music everywhere
I am dancing close to you
There are no days or nights we've left behind

Don't stop, don't stop for me now
don't stop, don't stop for me now
When you're running, you're running far away
And you don't know what to do with all my love
don't stop for me now

Why is it so hard to say that you need me
The way that I need you

There are no days, there are no nights,
we've left them all behind
And you can run so far that I won't reach
There are no places I won't find you

Don't stop, don't stop for me now
don't stop, don't stop for me now
You keep running, yeah you're running far away
When all I want to do is be with you my love
You can run so far, run so far, my love
By the light of the moon

I will get to you somehow
So don't stop for me now


Thank you God that you are always there, that you chase us in the darkness, grab our hand, and bring us through.

Coffee Dreams and Puzzle Pieces

There are events in life that leave you wondering what to say. But this time, well, I just don't know what to say.

The last 8 months have been very difficult; so many events colliding to create the perfect storm of failure and hopelessness. In the last few months a ray of hope had started to peek out. A sign of something wonderful was starting to appear. I chased after it. I dreamed a dream. I hoped for a future.

And I just woke up, jarred from good sleep, grasping at the dream - hoping for a piece of it - as it slips through my fingers like mist on humid cool day. It was in reach, I could taste it and see it, and I could envision a future of growth and freedom. But now it has faded away. Nothing is left. It is gone.

What do you do when this happens? You can’t go back to where you were; it doesn’t exist anymore. You can’t live out of the past or you fail to move forward. You can’t just sit there or life will move along and you will wake up one day wondering where the time went. There is no opt-out, not as long as we want to live. Not living is not an option.

I think I’m still numb. I’ve cried a little. I have felt pain, but mostly I am just trying to fill my days and not make any rash decisions. Every once in a while the dream reappears like a whiff of coffee beans freshly ground as you sit and read a book. It is gone as soon as it appears. But for that moment, it is as fresh and full bodied as the first time you conceived of it.

But just as the coffee blends into the air conditioning, the dream fades as failure reasserts itself as reality. And maybe failure is too strong. I had done my best; I wouldn’t go back and change anything. In the end, I wasn't a good fit.

I feel like the puzzle piece that never fits until the very end. It seems to fit in a certain place in the picture – the patterns seem right and the sizing seems right initially but then as you examine it more closely you see that the flowers don’t match and the contours of the pieces aren’t cut from the same place. In the end, you remove the piece and keep seeking the right one. The thing is, right now, I’m the piece that has been set aside. The puzzle is still being worked on, but there is no way to know whether it is almost finished or if it was just getting started. There is a place where the piece will fit, but from this perspective, I have no idea when or where that will be.

And so, I have to wait. I have to remember my purpose and what I was made for, I have to remain available to be moved and put into the picture, but I have to maintain who I am and not let that get lost in the process. Waiting. That’s what it comes down to. Waiting not only to dream a new dream but to live out the dream when it becomes reality. But for now, I’ll just wait.

Christ is Risen!

He is Risen, Indeed!

Good Friday in the Black

Today is Good Friday. You probably knew that.

If you didn't, Good Friday is the day that we remember the death of Jesus Christ, earthly son of Mary and raised by a carpenter named Joseph. Heavenly Son of God in human flesh.

He was fully God and fully man. Completely integrated. A human and divine sacrifice meant to absolve for sin and bring us into communion with God. He chose to die. I believe He could have walked away if he wanted to, but had the ability to choose, just as we have the ability to choose whether or not to follow God.

This Lenten season I have tried to remind myself to focus on what God did for us during this time. Especially this Holy Week, I have tried to remember daily what was going on in His life. Yesterday we held a Seder, as we believe he would have been doing, when he instituted Communion. Today we will experience darkness as we extinguish candles in a darkened church. Tomorrow we will life in tension as we wait for the dawn of the resurrection. Sunday we will preach the good news - He is Risen! Risen Indeed!

I had help remembering this week. I made bracelets last Friday with my 7th and 8th grade students at a ministry I work at; flashy, girly things with glittering jewels and mirror crosses. They are nothing like the pain endured this week by the Christ. But shiny and bold enough to remind me that people can see them, and wonder. It is my job to tell them what it means.

So let me make sure to tell you. God loved you so much that he gave himself up for you that you might be able to find Him. That He wanted you to see Him is something unquestionable. He wanted you to know that He loves you. He wants you to know that He is there, waiting for you, if you just ask.

Maybe you find the Christ story confusing. Maybe it doesn't all make sense. And I would agree - it doesn't all make sense sometimes. But I can testify to this - my life would be undone without Him in it. I simply can't imagine it any other way.

Come experience His ridiculous beautiful love. He's waiting for you.

Off color

I think I have lost track of what color the background should be. Maybe that reflects the rest of my life. I seem to have lost track of what I'm supposed to be doing. That might have something to do with the fact that I'm unemployed in this economy, that long sought after goals may have to be interrupted - again, and that there seems to be no direction coming from anywhere on any front.

I try to get excited with people about good things in life but find I am just unable. Maybe the devil has succeeded in stealing my joy or maybe I just threw it off the top of a mountain while in New Mexico. Either way, it is not very present at the moment.

Does that make me less of a believer? That I can't fake joy when everything is falling apart? Life sucks right now. That is a technical and theological term that defines the paradigm of my life right now. I think I currently reside in Job chapter 23, though I need to see if I'm progressing forward or backward through the book right now. Seriously, I have no idea.

And strangely, through all of this, it is not God's existence or care that I doubt; I just wish He would return from vacation in the near future. I know He holds the future, I just wish I could tell He was holding me right now. All the little trite statements we use for comfort fall on my ears like the taste of ashes in my parched mouth.

Yes, I still believe, but please, don't try to make me say more than that. That is where I'm at right now - waiting for Him to move.

Entering Advent

We are now entering Advent (or more plainly - we are in Advent). Sometimes entering takes more than the change of a day.

The trip went better than expected though heartache and joy are inextricably weaved together here. The loss of a loved one, the inability to discuss it, the pain of a damaged marriage and a child hanging in the balance. All those things are difficult to deal with and color the ability to enjoy without reservation.

I am thankful for a lack of conflict, for safe travel and for seeing those that are far away. I am thankful that life goes on in the midst of hard times. I'm not trying to be dreary, just trying to keep going and keep focused on the hope that a baby in a manger brings to us all.

The absolute best contemporary expression of this for me is found in RelientK and the song "I Celebrate the Day"

"And the first time
That You opened Your eyes did You realize that You would be my Savior
And the first breath that left Your lips
Did You know that it would change this world forever"

What a vivid picture of the impact of the incarnation on the world. That God coming would change our existence forever. That in the midst of where life goes there is hope for the future and for the kingdom of God to live on earth, among the believers.

When I heard that song last year, I resonated with the first verse:

"And with this Christmas wish is missed
The point I could convey
If only I could find the words to say to let You know how much You've touched my life
Because here is where You're finding me, in the exact same place as New Year's eve
And from a lack of my persistency
We're less than half as close as I want to be"

Last year I felt I was in the same place. I can not say that now. In fact, I probably wished last year that things would change. Be careful what you wish for.

This year I stand in turmoil on so many fronts. The babe in the manger is all that I have. All other things have been stripped away. Material security, purpose and direction, assurance - it's all morphed or moved to the point that it is hard to identify where the path lies and what the future holds.

So, if you can identify, stand with me before the manger. Enjoy the tiny eyelashes and mini digits that surround the finger of the mother. Gaze at the look on Joseph's face as he takes in the picture of his newborn son as tears roll down his cheeks into his beard. Believe in the angel that hangs in the night sky outside. Know that God is near. He is here. He is with us.

Feeling Muddled

Probably going into Thanksgiving I should be feeling thankful and joyful - ready to experience a great time with family and friends but honestly, I feel muddled.

Now that may have to do with the flu/cold thing that I've been fighting for several weeks and the fact that I had a killer migraine this morning. Or the fact that I don't have a job as the world seems to be plummeting into economic oblivion or the difficulty of keeping moving forward when the to-do list is 17 pages long.

I need to get some cards in the mail even though I know they won't get there in time now. I am really not looking forward to a cross-country trip. I guess it's not necessarily what's on the other end (that is negotiable) - but part of it is the driving. My last trip, last December, was memorable for all the wrong reasons - blizzard on the plains of Texas, blinding snow, guardrail up close and personal, and 80+ car pile-up. That whole experience has left a glaze of "you have no control" over my life that I haven't been able to shake all year. I know, get over it, but it still makes me feel tenuous when hurtling down the highway at high speed.

Spiritually, I am also feeling muddled. Many of the things I thought I understood about my church of birth and growth are being challenged. It's not that I can't handle it, but it is never fun to be in the midst of this kind of change. I have no idea where God is taking me and it's getting a little exhausting to be hanging on for dear life with no picture of where I'm headed.

The other unsettling thing is that the image that keeps coming up is that of the kenosis - the self-emptying Christ - and of Paul - who was content and made due in whatever situation he was in. As ideas, those are fine, but I am finding it much harder to grasp what that kind of faith might look like in this economy, especially in my jobless situation. I am wrestling with what God wants me to hear in this. I think I can say that I will be glad when I know the outcome, whatever it is. I'll let you know.

Well, if I don't write again before Thanksgiving - Have a Happy Thankgiving!

Grace and Peace.

Still in the dark

Well, I have been hoping for an epiphany but it hasn't arrived yet. Still mulling over new thoughts, points of view, and one really big paradigm shift. Not that I wasn't already shifting but catching it in the teeth has been a little traumatic.

I'm reading a book on Paul and trying to find a little insight there. The interesting thing at the moment is a discussion about Grace and Peace. This little phrase that Paul uses is exactly not that - a little phrase - but an explicit statement about what he interprets God to be doing in the world; giving grace to those that don't have any and imparting peace on a world that needs to receive it. This statement of salutation, is a statement of what Paul wants to have happen in the hearts of all who hear it.

Grace and peace - more complex than "hey" or "thanks" - communicates the depth of fellowship and connection that he feels for the churches he is writing to. When we say grace and peace to those we love, it isn't just a way to open or close a letter but a way to share the grace of the Spirit and the peace of Christ with those we love and cherish.

So, as we enter into the weekend, preparing for our regularly scheduled time of fellowship - grace and peace.

Grace and Peace.

Entering a new discussion

Being on time is not necessarily something I am good at. And so, it seems to follow that I am late in entering into the emergent church discussion as well.  Honestly, it's not for lack of trying or because I don't want to learn more things, but predominately because I had not been exposed to the full range of what is going. 

That changed recently as I attending my first Emergent discussion.  I do not think I will ever look at things in the same way again.  I am struggling to define what exactly is happening. In some ways I feel like Paul after the Damascus road encounter; I have seen something great - almost beyond comprehension - and right now I am sitting in darkness waiting for the light to return to my eyes.  

While I would want to say that is an exaggeration, I really can't answer that question right now. I have had thoughts in the last few days - about the direction of my life, and the way I am getting there - that I never, ever thought would cross my mind.  

I have been challenged on all sides and feel that some sort of reorientation is coming.  I have been restless in my current faith experience for some time now, and it appears that there is another way to approach the malaise that can fall upon a believer that, while serving actively and faithfully, has always done things the same way. 

The newness is not the deliverance, but opens the eyes to see something that has never been seen before. When they open, I will let you know.  But as for now, I will sit in the dark and wait until they are opened again.

Still Here

Sorry to be away for so long. It's been a busy couple of weeks. However, I found a neat quote I wanted to share with you.

This quote relates to the discussion about Wesleyan theology and the use of the word perfection. Perfection does not mean perfection in action. Nor does Wesley ever say that it does. However, we wouldn't have much space for theological debate with out confusing terms like "perfection." So here is one definition of perfection that helps us understand what Wesley really meant.

"Perfection, according to Wesley, means perfection of posture -- the posture of the heart toward God. The primary matter is not the actual performance but the disposition (intention), not the result which is produced, but the genuine resolution to effect it."

--Mitsuru Samuel Fujimoto
John Wesley's Doctrine of Good Works
Doctoral Dissertation, Drew University, 1986, p.105

A Poem

Pervasive, unexpected, hidden
Out of no where, we were all bitten
The impact, with tentacles reaching
Why did you decide to begin cheating?

You were faithful, true, and dependable
Now we’re left in a place untenable
To punish or give grace
Is there much choice when evil stares you in the face?

Hurt, broken, numb
Do you feel those with what you have done?
Forgiveness is the only antidote
But, my heart may be forever broke.

Truth, pain, reality
The scourge of all humanity
Who, what, why, when, where, how
Maybe none of it matters now

Love, joy, grace
These put evil in its place
The underserved, the unexpected
Accepted, no more rejected.

A Life Without Time

It's absurd really to say that I have no time. Time is how we keep going, it's how we change days, it's how we look back to see that we've grown, changed, or stayed the same. Time is just flying by.

I never really believed that life got faster the older you got. Now I can't deny it at all. I can't seem to catch up, much less let my soul catch up. Where does time go. This is one year after the Virginia Tech shootings. Wasn't that just a few months ago? Five years in Iraq and Afghanistan. Has it really been that long September 11? Six months since the car accident. And he's still in therapy. Seven months since turning down a dream job. But I still know I made the right decision, eh.

For the second year in a row I resolved to write my grandparents - once a month. O wait, it's April and I haven't done it yet. What does that say about my personal resolve? 10 years, almost 11 years since I've seen some of them. Is that possible?

I know none of this really matters to anyone else. I just feel so frustrated about life and how hard it seems. I can't get a grip. Even with my faith an integrated part of my life, I can't see to catch up. I'm teaching a class about balancing life while mine seems to get more and more out of balance. How does that work?

And then I look at my brother who is really in the middle of a life that hasn't been going so well. And he answers the question of, "What do you want for your birthday?" with, "child like faith and peace in all hearts of mankind." Trust me, that's a huge statement from a guy who's going through a rough patch. And no, he's not kidding.

Someday, I hope to figure out how to make it all make sense. Maybe I just need to follow my brother's other piece of wisdom: "God is the creator of good. Praise his name!"

Peace of Christ be with you.

A deep consciousness of God

A deep conciousness of God is something all believers seek. And yet, in our technological, gadget oriented, 100 mile an hour world, I think it is something that gets lost.

Many of the Christians I know (and many days that includes myself) wonder if there is more to this life than what we are experiencing on a daily basis. I would guess that most of these people read the Bible regularly, have a prayer life and attend church regularly. But in our discussion about life, it regulary comes up that there must be more to this life.

It seems that even when we do everything we are suppose to, there is something missing. And it’s not just a personal phenomenon, I hear it in and about my church as well. We have a great church, but it seems that there could be more than there is - spiritually, emotionally…

In the Message translation, I Peter 1:18-20 says. “Your life is a journey you must travel with a deep consciousness of God. It cost God plenty to get you out of that dead-ended, empty-headed life you grew up in. He paid with Christ’s sacred blood, you know. He died like an unblemished, sacrificail lamb.”

Life is a journey that we must live with a deep consciousness of God. This isn’t a willy nilly application of literal scriptural interpretation to every mundane thing in life. This isn’t following a strict moral code that would rival the Pharisees. This isn’t forcing God to be a Republican.

This deep consciouness is more; it is having Him woven into the fabric of our being. This is breathing Him in with every breathe, living His message with every action, living in a way that keeps him in the front of our minds at every moment.

I could try to give examples or try to give it more words, but the simple truth is that we need to live with God in our conscious life in such a way that His love, grace, and mercy color every frame of our life. We need to see the world as he does, hear the cry of the broken, smell the fragrance or stench of the world around us and respond in the way that God would respond. We need to live a full and complete journey, with a deep consciousness of God.

When life blows up

I pretty much come to expect a pace of life in which seeing the dinner table free of piles is a cosmic anomaly. Seeing a large part of the kitchen counter is fleeting. And, actually being able to sit on my couch is an impossibility.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the good car gets totaled and someone gets hurt. Let me say this, I have much to thankful for. My husband could very easily have been seriously injured or killed had there been more traffic. I thank God for his life and well being! However, the results of the accident are annoying if not down right irritating.

Now we have to deal with multiple insurance agencies. Tracking time off work and making sure everyone gets the paperwork they need. We have to deal with having one car. We have to replace the good car, when we were just about ready to replace the car that is nearing the end of its life. And in the midst of this, I do wonder how faith impacts this part of my life.

I know, that compared to the rest of the world, I have nothing to complain about. Recently we have been talking about social justice issues in Sunday School and last night we just had a fellowship time about the missionaries and countries where our denomination is spreading the gospel. Many of those people would drool over two running cars - rust or not. Many of the Christians around the globe that we help support, may never own a car, won’t have health insurance to worry about, would be thankful for a back ache instead of an amputation or AIDS.

As I have been reading more about the emerging church movement and changes that are taking place in first world Christianity, I can’t help but see things in a new perspective. And one of things I’m left with is trying to figure out how to make it all apply. How do I deal with the discontent I now feel after seeing how things are not working? How do I do it differently inside a denomination that may not be ready for it? How do you really make the transition to authentic, conscious moment to moment faith when the world around you doesn’t value each moment?

What makes me different in dealing with insurance agents, car salesmen and loan agents? Will they see a sense of peace in the midst of this unexpected event that I know is mine to have through Christ but that I might not be feeling right now? For faith to matter, to be what Christ calls us to, it must make a difference, it must be real, it must be visible.

When life blows up, we must cling to the cross and bathe in His uncompromising love. We must let Him walk with us and consciously take His hand as we negotiate those times where we feel so alone. He has not abandoned us, we are not alone. He will work through us so that we represent Him to the world, even when it feels like it doesn’t make a difference at all. We can never see where it might change someone’s life. Be Christ to the world and let Him worry about the rest.

Where does Your heart want me?

Recently I have had to make a tough decision. Honestly, a life changing decision, the kind of decision that would alter the map of my life. It involved the many facets of decision making — pros and cons, consulting with my elders, prayer, quiet time and discernment. And that, discernment, became the keyword.

Because I’m a Christian one of the most important parts of making this kind of decision is discerning what God thinks about it. And this is the part with the most controversy. How do you know when God is speaking? How clear can you expect Him to be? Will he say yes or no, or do you have to figure out the landscape in between on your own?

People have lots of opinions about this. Some believe that if you pursue Him enough clarity is guaranteed. Others believe it comes down to pros and cons – weigh them out then take a leap of faith. In this case, God trusts you enough to make the decision. (Honestly, if that’s true, then God has more faith in me than I do.)

So, who’s right? How do you discern God’s will? How do you know when He gives an answer?

For me, it has come down to peace. In the face of decision that felt like walking through a field of landmines, peace became the objective. I really began not to care about the outcome as much – I could happily live with either outcome. What I needed was a sense of peace about that decision. “God, where does your heart want me to be?”

I finally made the decision in part because there was no peace at all. No peace about making this huge change. No peace about pursing a perfect opportunity that had been delivered into my lap. No peace.

And as I continued on after making a decision that was hard to deliver and hard to receive, I found peace. And it has been after the decision that peace has come. It has been after listening to a friend who was making a similar decision, with very similar stakes, who said she couldn’t pursue it because she had no peace.

I kept hearing the name A.W. Tozer in relation to decision making. I haven’t finished the book yet, but this paragraph felt very familiar to me…

“And if we are set upon the pursuit of God, He will sooner or later bring us to this test. Abraham’s testing was, at the time, not known to him as such, yet if he had taken some course other than the one he did, the whole history of the Old Testament would have been different. God would have found his man, no doubt, but the loss to Abraham would have been tragic beyond the telling. So we will be brought one by one to the testing place, and we may never know when we are there. At that testing place there will be no dozen possible choices for us—just one and an alternative—but our whole future will be conditioned by the choice we make.” (Pursuit of God, 30.)

My option was a positive one. I was being asked to accept or reject an absolutely perfect opportunity. An opportunity that would change my life and the life of the other people involved. It probably wouldn’t change the course of Christianity, but it would have changed the course of my relationship with God.

He didn’t provide a glittering answer in the nick of time, there was no flash of lightening or a road sign displaying answer, but there was, in the end, peace. A peace I definitely don’t understand, but a peace that leaves me knowing that for now, I have made the right choice; a choice that leads me deeper into the heart of God.

This is the Beginning...

I know, real original yet very true. After thinking for several weeks about different things that I could write to start this blog, maybe just saying hello, and I hope you will check back is a good start.

I thought of this name over a year ago. I was actually thinking it might make a great album name, but then I was doing some reading and exploring some of the new trends in the church, it seemed to fit. Maybe I will go into the definitions and exegesis of how I got to these words later, but for now, I think it is fair to say that what God has done for us seems ridiculous in human terms but is the most beautiful thing possible. And, the North American church has its moments of being ridiculous and beautiful at the same time too.

This doesn’t just apply to religion but many things in nature are this way too. That a hummingbird has to constantly eat in order to fly, yet flies so fast it must constantly eat; that the leaves from the trees are about to turn a rainbow of beautiful colors in the midst of their death; and that nature can restore itself after being devastated by tornados, hurricanes, and fire.

There are many ridiculous beautiful things in this world. There are many ridiculous beautiful things around us every day. And sometimes one of the most ridiculous beautiful things is just sitting down to begin something that has been thought about and rehearsed so many times that it would be ridiculous not to let it begin.

I hope you will come back. I hope you will give me feedback as we explore ridiculous beautiful.