sojourn stories...

family matters blog

i have finally started posting on my family matters blog...there is a link to an article entitled everybody hurts, that was recently published at the ooze that is a great kick off tfor this page. please visit the site, and post a question or comment on an arena of amily life that you would like to see addressed, or suggest someone else's work that would be a good fit and i will contact them (please get their permission first), make a suggestion about a book you have found helpful... please give your input as i am hoping this site is a place of ministry in the wonderful and difficult realm of family...both nuclear and extended.  thanks

the day after, the day after...

easter tuesday...the day after, the day after easter... the holiday hoopla is over and yesterday it rained all day, and today the wind swept me off to work, already entrenched in the to do list of this week...

he is risen, i signed my emails, "he is risen indeed" was a common response.  but i didn't write and Easter post, spent the day with my family surrendering my blogging addiction to the greater good ( march madness and movies with my kids;) and i didn't even surf the web until monday eve after work... because i was inundated with the next thing...

"oh lord, i pray, help me not to lose sight of easter, as i live in the shadow of the resurrection...these are the days that you spent with your disciples...reminding them, comforting them, sharing meals and laughter and stories and hope with them...help me not to lose sight of the celebration that lingers until pentacost, but even more importantly, keep in full view the reality of the resurrection and all that it makes possible in my life today.  help easter monday to bring such anticipation for easter tuesday, and easter wednesday and so on, that there is little difference in my life today, tomorrow or next week, from my life and heartset on easter morn...that i might be authentically changed by the words..."god has raised him from the dead!"  while i celebrate the truth that someday i too, shall be raised,  help me to live reborn in the midst of to day and all its gritty details, i can each unfolding day, redeemed in soul and resurrected in spirit.

on silent saturday...

"Jesus is our guarantee of God's promise.  What happened in his body is the pattern of what must happen in all of the cosmos.  We are making up in time, in our body, what happened thirty-three years in the body of Jesus.  We are optimistic because we look at him and see the final pattern.  To be a Christian means to be an optimist because we know what happened on the third day.  We know that it worked, that Jesus' leap of faith was not in vain.  His trust was not in vain, and the Father raised hi up.  He trusted enough to outstare the darkness, to outstare the void, to wait upon the resurrection of the third day, not to try to create his own but to wait upon the resurrection of God.

The Scriptures and early Church seldom said, Jesus "rose" from the dead.  They aways say, "God raised him up!"  Good Friday inevitably comes into every life.  So does Holy Saturday.   In those moments of absurdity and darkness we want to say it's unreal, but Easter Sunday will come.  It is as certain as the dawn.  No longer is it an act of faith to believe in immortality, no longer is it an act of faith that some theologian must prove to me, because I have seen the pattern of the world worked out again and again.  The Paschal Mystery, the death that is embraced in love, does not lead to death but to life.  Absurdity which is embraced  and forgiven will not lead to meaninglessness but to freedom.  So what was Jesus' plan to overcome evil?  Attack it? No! Love it to death.  What is given to God is always transformed.  That is the eternal third day that we forever await."  (Richard Rohr, The Great Themes of Scripture)

i am haunted by the goodness of g-d,  haunted by the "easter sunday's" in my life, when the resurrection is borne out in the here and now.  the resurrection is revealed on this temporal plane when love defeats harm, and brings the courage to choose love in the face of evil... this is never done on my own strength, but by the Indwelling Spirit. and in those moments of pain and absurdity, i can honestly say that in time, i have seen g-d transform what is given to g-d...i am haunted by memories of redemption...g-d's redemptive work in my life and heart, when by g-d's hand i am transformed from death to life, from brokenness to beauty, from fear to faith...and i know the power his resurrection in real time. 

the basin and towel...

~nothing prepared me for having my feet washed that night...dirty, smelly, with gnarled toenails and tufts of hair.  Peter said it well, "no lord, you will never wash my feet!  that is a job for the lowliest, the undesirables, those who are the least among us. when we enter a home for dinner, it is the lowest slave that washes the dust from the days travels...that is no job for you Master!"

how many of the disciples thought this? I, john, know these words crossed my mind.  but, peter was the only one who spoke. of course peter would say it...impetuous, outspoken peter, who often gave voice to our thoughts, ones the stirred in our minds and lingered on our tongues, but spoken by peter.  I don't know if he was being courageous to say aloud what we all thought, or if he was just being peter...but i will never forget the way Jesus looked at him, with understanding and tenderness, with appreciation and enjoyment, with a sad knowing at times as well...Cephas, the rock...how well the Rabbi knew him.

I watched as Jesus rose from the table that He has instructed us to prepare.  He was quiet,  yet purposeful and because of his earlier words, he had our attention.  I caught peter's eye with my questioning ones, "what was the rabbi doing? surely he wasn't leaving, we had brought all he asked for in preparation of the Passover Supper, and we were just beginning the meal.  Peter shrugged at me and turned his attention to Jesus.

I will never forget Peter's face as he watched Our Lord, take off his robe, wrap a towel around his waist and then sit down by the basin used for footwashing; and raise his eyes to ours.  Peter must have figured it out, because without a moment's pause he guffawed and twisted in his seat to look away.

jesus looked to andrew, faithful andrew, who had been one of the first to understand that jesus was the messiah and had brought peter to meet him.  andrew, who was a partner, a helper, always taking care of this motley crews needs.  he arranged lodging, he made sure there were provisions, and he was always the one who remembered to thank our hosts, to make sure that they were provided for...yes of course, jesus would look to andrew to lead in his humility.  without a word, andrew rose and walked to jesus, sat down and allowed the lord, his messiah to remove his sandal and was his feet.

the upper room stilled in silence.  water sloshing in the basin, dripping from the master's hands was the only sound.  the rest of us watched, stunned and silent.  then, jesus looked into Andrews eyes, and we heard jesus' voice, barely a whisper as he took the towel and dried andrew's feet.   I don't know what he said to andrew, and the things jesus said to me are tucked deep into my heart, but he spoke in hushed tones to each of us in turn as he washed and dried our feet.

finally, peter was the only one left...jesus looked him full in the face and we all watched as peter walked up to jesus and proclaimed...Lord, you will not wash my feet!  jesus answered him, "if i don't wash you, you can have no part of me."  Impetuous passionate peter, cried out then wash all of me, my hands, my feet, my head!"  jesus chuckled and gently said to peter, "you feet are sufficient." 

After washing peter's feet and speaking quietly to him.  Jesus looked at all of us and each of us as he said, "do you understand what i have done? you must understand that the master is not greater than the slave...this you must understand.  i have come to serve, to offer my self, my rights, my very life for you...just as you must do serving in my name. You must become the lowliest, the servant, the one who lays down your life in love...just as i have done for you my friends."

in an upstairs room, a parable

is just about to come alive

and while they bicker about who's best

with a painful glance, He'll silently rise

their Savior-servant must show them how

through the will of the water

and the tenderness of the towel.

and the call is to community,

the impoverished power that sets the soul free

in humility to take the vow

that day after day

we must take up the basin and the towel.

in any ordinary place,

on any ordinary day,

the parable can live again

when one will kneel and one will yield

our Savior-servant must show us how,

through the will of the water

and the tenderness of the towel

the space between ourselves sometimes,

is more than the distance between the stars.

by the faragie brigde of the servant’s bow

we take up the basin and the towel

and the call is to community

the impoverished power that sets the soul free

in humility to take the vow

that day after day

we must take up the basin:

and the call is to community

and day after day

we must take up the basin and the towel

~the basin and the towel, a favorite song by michael card

on this holy day of remembering the passion of the Christ, i think about the service of washing another's feet, of allowing my own feet to be washed...and i silent and awed...

posts that spoke to me:

lilly-washing feet in real time

maggi dawn- who provided the will quote above

m2- on being mary mary

dry bones dance- good friday poem

anj-

jay- only wonder understands

wes- both thurs and fri posts

will- on following a servant

inner dorothy-

the cat's cradle-both fri and thurs posts

the corner-both fri and thurs posts

At the height of his game, Jesus took time to teach the disciples the valuable lesson that being the Messiah meant he was the chief servant.  His plan for global world domination was not through a sword or a chariot, but through a bucket and a towel."  will sampson

embracing my body...

Yesterday, Lisa wrote a great post and sent me to this post by Andrea, about naming what is good and the reality of understanding the power of words.

As a therapist, I work with soul scars caused by ugly shameful words that wound and sear and leave scars long after bruises heal and life tumbles forward.

With the link, she challenged a group of us to do this to a part of our bodies that we have spoken ugly words about and to rename that part with a healing word.  Both posts and her challenge have provoked much thought for me.  I have spent years thinking about the body, my body, the feminine body, how it has been shamed, exploited and even celebrated and enjoyed.  Part of my own story is being told that I was fat, as a teenager when I was not (though I believed the words) and that set off years of body image issues and the roller coaster of attempts at perfection.  Sadly, the illusion of perfection is bought and sold, and altering body parts is an increasingly popular option for women, both young and old today.  At a recent seminar on eating disorders, I learned about a suburban high school where the second most popular gift for high school graduation were breast implants… second only to a car.  A ‘boob job’ for teenagers!  What have we become in this quest for the elusive, indefinable, and ever changing image of a perfect body?? 

breath of life

I just read a beautifully written post about being present in body, soul and mind in prayer. steph poetically describes it with the metaphor of a dance.  for me, this calls to mind a posture of openness, of being so comfortable in my own skin that i move and have being unabashedly vulnerable and free...willing to be led, willing to engage, willing to enjoy and be enjoyed.  ah...this strange body we have learned to 'pummel and subdue' rather than embrace and enjoy. imagine being free to dance, to really live, to breath...

as i ponder the events of the coming days..maundy thursday,  good friday, anticipating easter and celebrating the resurrection, i think about the body of jesus broken for me, his blood spilled, his breath ceasing that i might, that we, might experience The Resurrection one day, and shadows of the resurrection in our everydays...

and i ponder the idea of body, soul, life and breath...

the breath of g-d breathed into me at birth...the breath of g-d given for me in the passion...the breath of life leaving my body as i return to g-d...i wonder about the first breath.  so often we envision adam laying on the ground...as the breath of g-d swooped through the air and into him...but i wonder if the breath of g-d came to adam and eve with them standing before g-d, face to face...mouth to mouth and i imagine the very life of The Creator infusing the created one, giving life and breath to the image bearer.  is this not what we do when we try to resuscitate another...join them and infuse them with our live giving breath that they might breath and live again? 

I wonder if this is why i am so drawn to redemptive, resuscitating moments and stories on this temporal plane. i believe that these moments of Resurrection "in the now," help me to anticipate the 'not yet" (heaven).  and maybe i am touched so deeply  because there is a familiarity to this life giving breath that harkens back to the day of my birth...of created soul and life imbued body, because i am remembering 'the already' (eden).  That place of innocence and childlike wonder and faith, that allows and enables me to live surrendered.

this is what i anticipate on this last wednesday of lent.  wes calls it palm wednesday, a somber time of emptying myself in preparation....preparation for what?  to be filled with the life giving breath and spirit and essence of Another, my Redeemer.

I anticipate taking in the bread of life and drinking from the cup of Christ that i might remember my salvation, my new life...infused with the Lord's life breath, given for me.  in the last supper, i remember the Life that enters me and empowers me to live renewed, resuscitated, resurrected in this temporal plane.

i ponder the calvary road and the surrender and love it required of jesus to walk it.  i wonder if His life within me, will help me to walk surrendered  and to love as he did.

i pause at golgatha, listening to the breath of life leave jesus, that i might live...

and i rejoice in the dawning of the sunrise on that first easter morn...that it is no longer only my breath, that breaks the air, but the Risen Lords that surrounds, enfolds and enlivens me...

...that i might go forth and offer my breathed-into-life in the same loving manner as the Lord.

its the story that drives us...

trinity in the matrix states, "it's the questions that drive us..."

as much as i love the matrix... i beg to differ... i believe that it is the story that drives us...

we are a people of stories...past, present, future intertwined in the three things that remain- faith, hope and love... it is the past stories that generate faith, as i am haunted by the Presence that cannot be denied.. the present stories that are infused with hope and love as i make deposits in the future... i must mortage my faith, building on the past, in order to even draw breath in the present moment... the lack of oxygen in the present at times requires me to have Someone Greater to believe in, to lean into.. to begin to weave another story in each moment.

it is The Story that drives us, crafted by The Storyteller, but co-created by us in each inteaction of the day... each movement to love in an other centered fashion that adds to the richess of another's story while simultaneously adding color and texture to our own... all we have is our story... the unfolding of our lives in the appointed time and place that is the now.

i remember being pregnant,  full and swollen with the hope and promise of an-other's life, a story yet to be told, and simultaneously already begun in my womb, within the shell of my story...part of and yet as unique as the DNA taking shape within me...

it is en-storied lives that have depth and richness...and it is in the story that i currently find myslelf in that offers me an opportunity to give live, to nourish, to offer and to engage and be present...

the Divine Breath that gives life enables and requires me to live in the momemnt of this story that is mine... in this vessel i call my body, in this era i call my life, in this family that i call home and i am asked, no compelled to create more storylines and characters and scenery and nuance to add to The Unfolding Eternal Story...and this is what drives me...

lenten reflections...

"Community is the place where our poverty is acknowledged and accepted, not as something we have to learn to cope with as best as we can but as a true source of new life.  Living in community...challenges us to come together at the place of our poverty, believing that there we can reveal our richness."  (Henri Nouwen)

Lent...a time of preparing, of reflecting, of surrender to that which is greater than myself.  Wednesday began week five of the Lenten season...i was too busy and too tired to even notice...

Tomorrow is Palm Sunday and marks the beginning of Holy Week.  What makes the week holy?  Surely, the historic events themselves, the passion of the Christ... but moreso, the present event of the passion of the Christ being lived out in community...

...love and sacrifice, obedience and worship, sorrow and anguish, redemption and freedom poured out as a living sacrifice in celebration and rememberance of that Holy Week two thousand years ago...and in celebration of all that is already...and anticipation of all that is yet to come...

...in the shared richness of community.

willing to just be...me

The movie, Chariots of Fire, tells the hauntingly true story of two British athletes competing in the 1924 Olympic Games.  In one scene in the movie, one of the men, Eric Liddel, talks with his sister, Jenny, about his passion for running and for God Liddel was a devout Christian, slated to travel as a missionary to China, and Jenny disapproves of the time and energy that Eric is putting into running, since it takes him away for the mission that she understands.  A key moment in the movie transpires when Eric looks at her and states..."God made me to run, and He made me to run fast, and when i run I feel His pleasure."

i love this statement...the bold, certain, unswerving in an awareness of the giftedness bestowed by G-d and the pleasure it brings both G-d and the created one when the gift is utilized...Pleasure that comes to G-d and to the created one, each time that a gift is used...a gift exercised, offered, poured out in utter delight...without much effort or forethought. The awesome confidence, ability and willingnes to 'run' because that is what G-d has made me to do, and when i do so... when i "be" who G-d has made me to "be"...well, then i feel G-d's pleasure!

Where/when do you/we feel g-d's pleasure?!  Are you/we willing to just BE???

oh, the pleasure of being! (Eric is #14, running with full abandon, knowing the essence of all that he is...he is free to just be...)

an alternative...

"Love Challenges the Beloved" (Richard Rohr)

Humans do not want a God of love, because such a love always makes demands.  That is the very nature of love and hunamity doesn't want it.  We seek to hide from it and destroy it. So people sought to destroy Jesus, brother to creation.  Jesus did not have to be a great prophet to see the handwriting on the wall, to see that his word was not being received.  The people did not want relationship; they wanted religion.  Should that seem so unreal to us?  It is the same for us today.  It is the same for the Church for the last two thousand years.  Humans do not want love relationships; we want religion and all its trappings because that is much more comfortable.  A love relationship continues to challenge and make demands.  It also offers a joy that we cannot tolerate:  too near, too lavish, to spacious.  What might we do with such freedom?  It's easier to just go to church."  (from The Great Themes of Scripture)

Oh, that i would be accused of such love...one that is near, one that is lavish and spacious, one that springs from relationship with the Incomprehensible Eternal One and never hides in religion...Imagine if this were type of love we who call ourselves christians were guilty of...what if we really lived and love in the way of Jesus?