sojourn stories...

a few tidbits...

busy...busy... terribly busy.. as Madame Blueberry would say ;)  (the theology of Veggie Tales is right on the money at times ;)

Just a few tidbits to help catch you and me up!  I have the privilege of being part of  planning an event that focuses on the issues of Race and Diversity in the Emerging Church.  Many of you may have read the recent emergent/c where Tony Jones referenced this upcoming event.  It will be a theological discussion, far more than it will be a how to get a token ethnic family involved in your church or ministry.  It will be a place to confront our own prejudices and presuppositions and a forum to listen and to learn from others.  I am so excited about being part of this event!  If you are passionate about the issues of race: of inclusion and embrace then please email me!  or join the discussion on the blog that Jay Vorhees has set up and help shape the unfolding of this event!

I have been involved in some advocacy issue regarding the Lost Boys of Sudan; humbled at their courage and desire to return to their country in order to help with the rebuilding.  One of  my new friends, Angelo, is planning to return to Sudan in December and is seeking financial support for his trip.  If you are interested in supporting his courageous venture, please email me. 

I have been talking with Natala about the lack of writing that has plague me of late... since hurricane Katrina, when i struggled to find words, i have remained tongue tied and finger twisted. i love to write and yet i have found little solace in the written word.  i have done a lot of collaging of late...as the visual and tactile seem to be more cathartic. what i do write these days is profoundly inward and private... it is odd to not blog, to have lost the therapeutic and cathartic nature of this forum. 

if you have read any of my posts, you know that i do not post news, updates, FYI's or bullet points very often.  instead, i blog, for the most part, about the wrestlings of my heart, the ponderings of my mind and the theological and life questions that haunt me.  therefore, given that i have written little in my own writing life, i have had even less to say in this forum of late...

i am sorry for that.  i have felt guilty for that.  i have tried to be different in this reality.  i cannot force it.  the daily-ness of life has gotten the better of me recently. 

i wonder if surrender is just allowing "what is" to "be"

does that make sense?  equating surrender with acceptance of what i didn't plan on, may not like, would choose to change...

for example...the fact that my kids are in need of more attention, my high-schoolers are needing quantity time?  that my work has taken on new dimensions and requires more of my attention?  that my health has required me to cut back in every arena of my life, and thus put a number of my dreams on the back burner...

in younger days, i think i would fight, trying to make what i wanted to be true, come to be... now, in my middle years, i am wise enough to know that i cannot beat the reality of my daily-ness.  so i am joining it.  i am doing that which i know i am called to, taking care of the small circle of the world that is mine, and waiting... quietly.

i am becoming convinced that growth , that maturity in Christ is a willingness to surrender to what is real, what is true, whether i like it or not...

don't give up on me, i will be back... and i the meantime, every so often, i will be here...

surfacing, treading water and not sure which way is toward land!

it has been a while... a long while since i have posted. 

life, stuff, and more life have gotten the better of me, threatened at times to engulf me in the crashing wave of "the urgent" 

there have been days of great delight, laughter and celebration as all of our birthdays fall within this six week interval...there have been tears and well wishing as my eldest left for college, older and wiser than i ever was at 20!

waves of fear and anticipation followed my youngest, my son to his first days as a freshman, and i must admit that these feelings and how to deal with them are not in the "how to mother a teenage boy manual."    (though the Scriptures bear out a few principles that have sustained me, as i watch and pray...but there are no guarantees, and that is risky, so profoundly risky, that it make me stand in awe of the freedom and love that G-d bestows on me).

i have had little to say in this forum of writing.  and i am increasingly aware that there is a dearth of content in my journal, empty pages in my sketch book, accompanied by a drowning sense of boredom...

and the only way out is through (as alanis so poetically sings it;)

in the recent stream of unending tasks, "to do" lists and urgent matters at hand, i have missed this medium of communicating, missed my friends in the blogosphere and missed the sanity that comes from a sojourn here...

so, i am finally surfacing.

it has been a long 6 weeks. 

i am treading water...

and

i am hoping to post more often...

my mind feels dry from the lack of conversation and thought provoking posts that pepper my bloglines, my heart is heavy in the midst of so much national tragedy and i must confess that i have been overwhelmed into silence and a small sphere of action through my local community.  I have even avoided reading blogs... yes a true absence!  and i miss this unique forum for interchange, expression and growth. 

they say that absence does make the heart grow fonder;)  just as soon as it gets over the guilt of shoulds and coulds and begins to engage in the "is" of now! 

I am waking up here, in the midst of incredible tension... increasingly aware of the frustrating finitude of the human life and the relentless passing of time, yet longing for the luxury of unstructured days...or even structured days that include time for that which is really important... the care and tending of my own soul...

the needs of my children and family have consumed me of late, and the care and tending of their souls brings me great joy and satisfaction.  they are my "important, " yet the chaos of being a mom, also makes them my "urgent" far too often, and i have neglected the care and tending of me...

i feel the limits of this mortal life pressing in on many sides and

i have struggled to find balance and clarity...

i am still struggling to find balance and clarity... why do i buy into the myth that i will ever arrive?  ;)

maybe that is the wrong struggle, struggling to "find"  rather than simply seeking "to be."

be-ing and time...

so, enough rambling... for now...

i just wanted the beginnings of a post...as i have learned that far too often that "beginning again" is the hardest step, and this is my feeble effort at such a leap...

sorting hat sillies and other things that reveal the geek side of me;)

The Sorting Hat site has revealed that I am a Griffyndor.  Both my daughters thought they would be Ravenclaws, the intellectually oriented house, but once they took the test, their answers revealed that both were also Griffyndors.  This result surprised them a bit, but not me as their first gut-felt answers leaned toward bravery, taking risks and being loyal over being smart or intellectually guided.  Though they are both terribly intelligent in very different ways;) 

Without a doubt, my son is a Griffyndor, from the earliest age he loved people and is truly 'lion-hearted,' which may make his high-school years a bit difficult to navigate as he is not fully comfortable in his own skin just yet...

On being geeks...well, at lunch today, my oldest daughter, kate and i, were discussing Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince quite animatedly...we picked apart different parts of the story, discussed what we thought about the interesting turn of events, conjectured about the slight of hand that may be revealed in the end and the other possible unfolding of the story in book seven.  Then we launched into sharing out thoughts and feelings about various characters in the series, and suddenly she looked up to see her boyfriend roll his eyes...she laughed aloud and proclaimed, "I know, we are such geeks!"   i returned her laughter, winked at her boyfriend and the conversation took off for another 15 minutes as i told her about the sorting hat site that i had found via inner dorothy, sue's blog, at St.Casserole's blogsite, and then all of us had to jump on the site and see what house the kids were in! 

i have always been a reading geek!  (i now wish i was a techo geek as well and need to call and apologize and pay homage to every techno geek i ever gave a hard time to while in high school..., but that is another story, another post;)

So for fun take the test and then comment below what house the Sorting Hat would place you in!  btw,  you do not need to have any knowledge of the Harry Potter books to take the Sorting Hat test! 

unfolding beauty...

~and the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.    anais nin

I have been sitting on this quote, waiting till my friend sent me this incredible photo that he took...how fun to find that Susan, at visual voice, one of my new favorite blogs, just posted this same quote with one of her beautiful photos!

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?? 

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...

snow!

i love snow...we got 6 inches yesterday and last night, a snow day and sunshine....all of which brighten my mood and remind me of the larger story.  Snow always softens the edges of life, refreshes, and cleanses the landscape of my world, my mind and most importantly today, my heart.  It is hard to miss or dismiss the light as it reflects off the snow, pours into my sunroom and reminds me that the darkness cannot overcome it...i am grateful for the beauty of snow.  i am astounded that there are no two snowflakes that are the same, just like us and our stories...this thought alone reminds me that such a G-d, can create beauty in our stories and i find a bit of peace and thus rest in the current storm within...

winter

 

winter...

     barren...no shade, flowers, fruit or leaves arrayed in vibrant orange; deadened

           cold...snow lingers, branches bending laden with weight; wet, frozen, heavy

                 stark...white air, ice blue...unyielding, unshielded 

                       birchbarkpeelingaway demanding a closer look.   

                                winter...deeper in...death or a different kind of life 

                       birchbarksheddingold making room for new 

                 stark...forbids lies and hidden malignancies, as layers reveal 

           cold...preserves, hibernating outwardly, allowing for inner work

     only seemingly barren....sap flows within, nourishing, preparing

winter...a redemptive season.

Recently, we have been talking alot about winter as a season of life...looking at the barren tress, their feeling of deadness, barrenness...wondering if life will flourish again, in the trees, in ourselves, as memories of past abuse and pain are entered and faced.  Sorrow threatens to either paralyze or to fuel aa flight from reality, as it presses in on our hearts...life feels like the dark, cold months of winter.

This photo is of a birch tree in my front yard.  Year after year, this birch tree's very existence challenges me... with its simple obedience to the season of winter...with its peeling layers and willing exposure, i am both drawn to it, and horrified by its vulnerability, wanting to draw closer and to look deeper and wanting to avoid the beckoning to do so. 

I am increasingly aware that winter can be a rich season...just a different kind of rich...an inner time of rebuilding, replenishing, repairing for the coming spring.  Winter assumes a spring, a time of blooming, of produce, of shade and then in due time, fall and dying leaves, with their vibrant colors rebelling, just before dormancy comes again...winter is not death...it is a time of  outer quiet and inner work.  Winter is necessary and has a unique beauty, that if entered into can bring rest and a time of re-creating to anyone who tarries there.