"Trust is the key to adventure."
-Alex Rover, Nim's Island
This afternoon, Dad, Ethan, and I went to the dollar show and saw Nim's Island, and I loved it! Definitely worth seeing. Flying lizards, monsoons, near volcanic eruptions, and random emails from an author on the other side of the world...great fun.
Nim lives on a secret pacific island with her father, is homeschooled :), and loves adventure stories. So when she gets in trouble while her father is stranded in a monsoon, her favorite adventure story author, Alex Rover, comes to helps her. (They've been communicating over email.)
The problem is that Alexandra Rover is terrified of the universe in general, orders hand sanitizer in bulk, and can't even muster the courage to go out to get the mail! But her alter-ego, Alex (her book character whom she alone can see) pushes her to risk the adventure...it's awesome. She has to travel across the world by big plane, little plane, bus, motor boat, heliocopter, and row boat in a monsoon and even ends up eating grub worms. Yeah, baby!
Everywhere she goes she's hanging back, but Alex, (an Indiana Jones/cowboy type) is always right there with her, urging her to overcome the fear side and do what is really in her to do. The results are hilarious and rather fascinating.
This past week I've been listing. Listing, as in making lists...or listing towards insanity. However you want to put it. In my mind, I think of how I could pack in this really organized way for Ukraine, and I start making lists in my mind, but because they aren't perfect, I don't write them down on paper. Believe it or not, I'm looking for the right kind of pen to make my list with. And at this point you may be saying, "honey, get a grip..." and I would agree with you.
So, no special pen. I made one list of toiletries and then went through some drawers and papers. I don't know what good that does except leave me with a tub of stuff I kind of want to take but definitely don't have room for. And it helps me rest at ease that there are a few less drawers and stacks I have to think about before I go. Or ever. After that, I sat on my bed with a tiny blank book I've hoarded since Christmas and a nice pen (I did find one after all!) and made lists of future lists I'm going to make :)
I'm just writing this to convince myself (and everyone else) once and for all how silly it is to worry over these things. Lists and more lists! All this Stuff. I just really want to forget about nail files and adaptors and AA batteries and deoderant and thermal underwear and find some pixie dust and POOF!!! Magically Be On The Plane. That will be a happy moment! I feel like Martha sometimes, but I know in my heart I'm Mary. Only one thing out of all these things is necessary...Jesu, joy of man's desiring.
It's kind of cool, actually, how my stress over preparations has been turned to good. I've woken up restless and unable to sleep a few nights, head full of tumultuous thoughts and little details. But then, when I started listening to music and focusing on the Lord, He started using my the dark, silent sleeplessness as an opportunity to share His thoughts about Ukraine! (Which, by the way, were a whole lot more exciting than mine!)
It's so great that in our weakest, most anxious and childish moments, God pours the power of His prayer and thoughts into us! It really is like Paul says: we are jars of clay. The "surpassingly great power" is from Him.
More and more, it's becoming evident to me that prayer is not something I can just decide to schedule or do. It's a gift from Him that requires only a willingness and readiness to recieve. We have to be willing to get in situations that are still and quiet (and often boring for a while!) but intercessory prayer itself is just the unmerited gift He gives His people as we get to know Him. He spontaneously infuses us with His thoughts, His spirit, His heart cries. And then we just say them back to Him!
I didn't ask to pass the infant morning hours in sweaty, hollow sleeplessness, and I sure wouldn't have stayed awake if it had been up to me, but in the midst my helplessness, God picked that time especially to share His thoughts with me! Cool!
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
In Which I Switch Gears at 20% and Tag Along With Dad
I arose from repose at the ripe hour of 9 o'clock this morning and got dressed, hearing voices downstairs and feeling anxious lest I miss that important hour of the day when the Walters family has a moot and plans for the day start piecing together. (It's nothing intentional or planned, understand...information just happens to get exchanged sometimes.) If I miss that crucial time, I feel kind of disoriented for the day.
While I was still fussing with my jeans, I heard Dad calling me, and bleary eyed, I went out to the landing. "Do you want to go to Tyler with me?" he asked. "I'm leaving in 15 minutes." My dear brain was still only running on 20%, but I managed to grasp what he said, and mumbled an affirmative.
It was pretty impressive, ya'll! I totally switched gears in a matter of seconds (while my brain was only functioning at 20%) and kicked into "go" mode. I showered neglectfully, dressed in something else, applied a little goop here and there as needed, and hurried downstairs. Dad had poured some grapenuts into the cruddy old blue mug with whales on it that I secretly like (oh well, now it's not a secret!), so I added milk and a teaspoon of sugar and headed out the door with a kiss from Mom.
We went to Tyler for Dad's doctor apointment, a checkup on his back required for Social Security purposes. I read World Magazine in the waiting room. The doctor congratulated him on getting Social Security and said "nothing new."
Then, we went to Barnes & Nobles. Why I keep letting this happen to me, I can't say, but once again I went into a book store with money, and...
I sat reading a book called Reaching Out, by Henri Nouwen, and when I had read maybe a third of it and had that sensation of someone-telling-me-what-I've-been-thinking-all-my-life-but-didn't-know-how-to-say, I thought "maybe I should just buy it." So I did. I have so many questions about life right now and I'm searching out so many things, I almost feel like these books I keep coming across are part of my "education." This living by faith thing is so crazy. I'm just trying to learn to listen to God's promptings and "buy" when He says "buy". So far He's blessing it!
It was past lunch time, but we hadn't eaten, so we stopped on the way home in Gladewater at a tiny restaurant called "Don Omar's" It's a little family business (I'm a bit partial to those!) and they have great Mexican food for a great price.
Our (at least my) favorite part about the restaurant is the waitress, though. She's eight years old, and a very charming hostess! She helps her mom translate orders. When she got us settled in with our food, she came over to our table and stood there in her yellow shirt and flouncy denim skirt. She regarded us with big brown eyes, serious but perfectly self-assured. She addressed my dad.
"So, is this your granddaughter?" Looks of mild amusement.
"No, she's my daughter."
"Does he look old?" I broke in, laughing. She nodded her head emphatically while poor dad protested. I mean, he's got a little gray up there, but he does not look old to me. But I guess when you're eight...
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Daisy," she said pertly.
"That's a pretty name," I replied, (what an original remark; don't you love small talk?) I was actually thinking how cute it was that she was named that because it fit her. Her shirt was sunshiny looking, and I wondered how such dark eyes could look so bright.
She did her job thoroughly. Every few minutes she'd return, flouncing.
"Need anything else?" she'd ask.
"Just a bigger stomach," Dad said. Mmm. Good food.
While I was still fussing with my jeans, I heard Dad calling me, and bleary eyed, I went out to the landing. "Do you want to go to Tyler with me?" he asked. "I'm leaving in 15 minutes." My dear brain was still only running on 20%, but I managed to grasp what he said, and mumbled an affirmative.
It was pretty impressive, ya'll! I totally switched gears in a matter of seconds (while my brain was only functioning at 20%) and kicked into "go" mode. I showered neglectfully, dressed in something else, applied a little goop here and there as needed, and hurried downstairs. Dad had poured some grapenuts into the cruddy old blue mug with whales on it that I secretly like (oh well, now it's not a secret!), so I added milk and a teaspoon of sugar and headed out the door with a kiss from Mom.
We went to Tyler for Dad's doctor apointment, a checkup on his back required for Social Security purposes. I read World Magazine in the waiting room. The doctor congratulated him on getting Social Security and said "nothing new."
Then, we went to Barnes & Nobles. Why I keep letting this happen to me, I can't say, but once again I went into a book store with money, and...
I sat reading a book called Reaching Out, by Henri Nouwen, and when I had read maybe a third of it and had that sensation of someone-telling-me-what-I've-been-thinking-all-my-life-but-didn't-know-how-to-say, I thought "maybe I should just buy it." So I did. I have so many questions about life right now and I'm searching out so many things, I almost feel like these books I keep coming across are part of my "education." This living by faith thing is so crazy. I'm just trying to learn to listen to God's promptings and "buy" when He says "buy". So far He's blessing it!
It was past lunch time, but we hadn't eaten, so we stopped on the way home in Gladewater at a tiny restaurant called "Don Omar's" It's a little family business (I'm a bit partial to those!) and they have great Mexican food for a great price.
Our (at least my) favorite part about the restaurant is the waitress, though. She's eight years old, and a very charming hostess! She helps her mom translate orders. When she got us settled in with our food, she came over to our table and stood there in her yellow shirt and flouncy denim skirt. She regarded us with big brown eyes, serious but perfectly self-assured. She addressed my dad.
"So, is this your granddaughter?" Looks of mild amusement.
"No, she's my daughter."
"Does he look old?" I broke in, laughing. She nodded her head emphatically while poor dad protested. I mean, he's got a little gray up there, but he does not look old to me. But I guess when you're eight...
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Daisy," she said pertly.
"That's a pretty name," I replied, (what an original remark; don't you love small talk?) I was actually thinking how cute it was that she was named that because it fit her. Her shirt was sunshiny looking, and I wondered how such dark eyes could look so bright.
She did her job thoroughly. Every few minutes she'd return, flouncing.
"Need anything else?" she'd ask.
"Just a bigger stomach," Dad said. Mmm. Good food.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
A Surprising Surprise
Last night someone gave me a beautiful gift. It was a big surprise, and came in a surprising way.
As you know if you read the last post, I wasn't feeling up to snuff yesterday, and that carried on through supper time. So when Mattie mentioned going to a party at the Johnson's house, I decided to stay home instead of zoning out in public. So Dad took Mattie, I stayed here "zoning out" with the rest of my family.
Connor and I watched a Monk show, and when it was over at about nine I was feeling much better and thought I'd just go on to bed while I was ahead, you know...and then the phone rang. It was Dad, saying I should come to the Johnson's anyway, because Mrs. Johnson's mom had a gift for me!
Obviously I was pretty curious...I'd never met this lady before, but Rebekah had told me all about her and she sounded like an amazing grandmother for doing stuff with her grandkids.
So Connor drove me over there (another great excuse to use his new car!) and I just thought how funny God is to spontaneously rearrange our lives all the time, to change my plans, to tip my world upside down when I get too fuddy duddy. I like it.
At the Johnson's the warm tidal wave of crazy love, hospitality, and welcomeness hit me at the door in the form of hugs, greetings, and something like war whoops! I love the love in their house. After getting lots of hugs, and greeting people and meeting Rebekah's Mimi and cousin Lexie, they gathered around to give me the present.
Mrs. ----- (I don't even know her last name yet) talked to me a moment, and then said, "Sit down, and we'll have a party." She then sat indian style on the carpet, and I sat opposite her, and the girls gathered 'round. Jojo even overcame his shyness enough to sit in my lap. I felt totally surrounded by love! Then I pulled out the red tissue paper and unwrapped this beautiful teacup:
As you know if you read the last post, I wasn't feeling up to snuff yesterday, and that carried on through supper time. So when Mattie mentioned going to a party at the Johnson's house, I decided to stay home instead of zoning out in public. So Dad took Mattie, I stayed here "zoning out" with the rest of my family.
Connor and I watched a Monk show, and when it was over at about nine I was feeling much better and thought I'd just go on to bed while I was ahead, you know...and then the phone rang. It was Dad, saying I should come to the Johnson's anyway, because Mrs. Johnson's mom had a gift for me!
Obviously I was pretty curious...I'd never met this lady before, but Rebekah had told me all about her and she sounded like an amazing grandmother for doing stuff with her grandkids.
So Connor drove me over there (another great excuse to use his new car!) and I just thought how funny God is to spontaneously rearrange our lives all the time, to change my plans, to tip my world upside down when I get too fuddy duddy. I like it.
At the Johnson's the warm tidal wave of crazy love, hospitality, and welcomeness hit me at the door in the form of hugs, greetings, and something like war whoops! I love the love in their house. After getting lots of hugs, and greeting people and meeting Rebekah's Mimi and cousin Lexie, they gathered around to give me the present.
Mrs. ----- (I don't even know her last name yet) talked to me a moment, and then said, "Sit down, and we'll have a party." She then sat indian style on the carpet, and I sat opposite her, and the girls gathered 'round. Jojo even overcame his shyness enough to sit in my lap. I felt totally surrounded by love! Then I pulled out the red tissue paper and unwrapped this beautiful teacup:
The thing is, this isn't just a random teacup. Mrs. Johnson's mom painted it herself! She has been reading my blog, and she read the post I wrote back in February about a teacup I got in Jefferson, and decided to paint one for me! The picture isn't the best quality, so it's hard to see the detailed blue forget-me-nots that look like they are in a real field, and the silver trim. It's so delightful!
I was so blessed that someone I had never even met before would take that kind of time to make a beautiful present for me!
We spent a while afterwards visiting, and I was thankful I got to come after all. I had time to rest and also some time to be with my dear friends and meet some new ones.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Channels of Water
So, I have a feeling that life is going to begin accelerating in the next week or two. Different things have come up that I need to start doing or maybe doing before I leave for Ukraine. Today when I realized that, a wave of weakness came over me suddenly and I felt completely drained, physically. Like something had zapped my energy source. You could say it's all in my head...I guess it was! But I felt completely limp.
I had lunch with Grammie and was polishing cabinets for her (one of the awesome little jobs God has given me!), and I mustered myself to finish that, and it was fine. I went swimming for a short time afterward, thinking that might be energizing, but then went home and ate some cereal. Then I went upstairs and did what I really, at the bottom of my heart, was hungry to do. I shut Laila out of my room and got on my bed, then opened up to Proverbs and read for a while. The only verse I remember now was the first one I read, from chapter 21:
"The kings heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it whereever He wishes."
It reminded me that whoever is in authority over me at any time whether people I work for, customs workers, government officials, pastors and teachers, my Mom and Dad, are all under God's authority. Usually my authorities are working for my good and I appreciate them very much, but sometimes I just feel helpless that decisions being made are out of my control. But this verse says that even the king's heart is subject to God. We are not at man's mercy, but God's, and He promises to work out all things for our good.
I'm not sure if that concept was even part of my struggle today, but somehow it comforted me, so I laid down and went to sleep, knowing I was right there with the Lord. When I woke up, I still felt bad physically, but I had so much worship in my heart for Him! I know I can go through whatever is ahead with a faithful heart.
While we swam at our cousin's above-ground pool earlier today, I got to see Ethan in action for the first time. Real pool action. He got right in without a floatation device of any kind and start playing around. He's finally tall enough to stand in the pool without being completely immersed. It's such a shock to see him in there like that after the past summers (even the beginning of this one!) when he spent the whole swim time basically trying to avoid getting wet. We played Marco Polo and then made a whirlpool. Mary and Ethan amused themselves by hanging on my neck like monkeys. It wore me out after a while, but it's kind of nice to spend some time being clung to by small beings under four feet tall. I rarely go up to swim with them.
Got to go now...I've overshot my time limit...
I had lunch with Grammie and was polishing cabinets for her (one of the awesome little jobs God has given me!), and I mustered myself to finish that, and it was fine. I went swimming for a short time afterward, thinking that might be energizing, but then went home and ate some cereal. Then I went upstairs and did what I really, at the bottom of my heart, was hungry to do. I shut Laila out of my room and got on my bed, then opened up to Proverbs and read for a while. The only verse I remember now was the first one I read, from chapter 21:
"The kings heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it whereever He wishes."
It reminded me that whoever is in authority over me at any time whether people I work for, customs workers, government officials, pastors and teachers, my Mom and Dad, are all under God's authority. Usually my authorities are working for my good and I appreciate them very much, but sometimes I just feel helpless that decisions being made are out of my control. But this verse says that even the king's heart is subject to God. We are not at man's mercy, but God's, and He promises to work out all things for our good.
I'm not sure if that concept was even part of my struggle today, but somehow it comforted me, so I laid down and went to sleep, knowing I was right there with the Lord. When I woke up, I still felt bad physically, but I had so much worship in my heart for Him! I know I can go through whatever is ahead with a faithful heart.
While we swam at our cousin's above-ground pool earlier today, I got to see Ethan in action for the first time. Real pool action. He got right in without a floatation device of any kind and start playing around. He's finally tall enough to stand in the pool without being completely immersed. It's such a shock to see him in there like that after the past summers (even the beginning of this one!) when he spent the whole swim time basically trying to avoid getting wet. We played Marco Polo and then made a whirlpool. Mary and Ethan amused themselves by hanging on my neck like monkeys. It wore me out after a while, but it's kind of nice to spend some time being clung to by small beings under four feet tall. I rarely go up to swim with them.
Got to go now...I've overshot my time limit...
Monday, June 23, 2008
Learning to Impose
It's just over five weeks until I leave for Ukraine. I was excited for Mary yesterday when I talked to her at church about her trip- she left for El Paso yesterday and is headed to Hong Kong in a few days. She's going to have a great time. I love how God just sprinkles us over the globe...I mean, He doesn't have to, but He seems to like to do it.
I'm excited about going myself. Apparently, my visa has come in! In one week!!! They told us two weeks at the least, but I was thinking four or so. I was dumbfounded. Now I just need to go pick it up from the office. So, that's all the paperwork.
Now, though, I'm getting into the touchy business of raising support, and I'll be totally honest. I'm scared silly. I'm scared of people, I'm scared of asking for money...I'm scared of money! No, not quite. But this is not easy to think about, let alone do. I've been able to earn money so far for my plane ticket and for getting ready to go through small jobs, but I'm going to need support while I'm there and for another plane ticket. My church body is aware I'm going, but when it comes down to details about how to give, it seems fuzzy and I'm really nervous about talking to people about it.
What I really want to do is just "wait on God" for the money. I've heard of missionaries who do that. The Lord leads them not to ask for money, and then He just sends it to them from random sources. It's a big faith building thing. I almost dare to say I have enough faith for that.
But, unfortunately/fortunately, I don't think I'm allowed to try that method this time. I have to actually communicate with human beings! :) Imagine that. What I'm having trouble having faith for is Asking-People-For-Money. That good ol' pride and fear of man stuff. Ok, Lord.
I just want to say, "God, I can't. I just can't." But I can't say can't. Not to God. Not now. Not ever. It seemed so easy when I sent support letters for Hong Kong and India missions trips. It was all layed out- they told me what to do. I did it. Didn't really think twice. Letters went out, money came in.
But now seems so different...it's a different situation, sort of. I think I expected to outgrow the support letter thing. I thought I would pass the test and maybe move on to a different level :)
So, baby steps. One step at a time. All I have to do is trust and do the next thing He says to do. When the waters rise to overwhelm me, He will rescue me. No fear, no pride of mine is too big for Him to deal with. So may He deal away!
I really want to learn to surrender and trust, not just God, but the people around me. Even around the ones I'm closest to, I try to hide my real needs or desires because I'm afraid that I'll inconvenience them, impose on them, or make them feel uncomfortable. But, it's like Mom told me one day about some other matter..."You need impose on people! We all impose on each other."
I try not to breath your air, give you germs, or cause even the hint of an unpleasant thought. Far be it from me to ask you for something! I think of it as being nice, but it's not very Biblical, is it? And in the end, it's really not very nice!
I usually like it when people "impose" on me...ask me for things, ask questions, ask for my time, hugs, care, help, love, and yes, money. It makes me feel loved and needed. Without it, I get extremely lonely. So probably, people would want me to do the same for them. How in the world can we be a community without imposing on each other?
Whether it's emotionally, physically, spiritually, financially, or whatever, it's so hard for me to shed my idea of what's "proper" and trust that people will actually love me, needs and all.
Please pray for me in this, that I'd have courage to obey the Lord and that this would be healthy and good for my relationships with people, and just for our church body.
I'm excited about going myself. Apparently, my visa has come in! In one week!!! They told us two weeks at the least, but I was thinking four or so. I was dumbfounded. Now I just need to go pick it up from the office. So, that's all the paperwork.
Now, though, I'm getting into the touchy business of raising support, and I'll be totally honest. I'm scared silly. I'm scared of people, I'm scared of asking for money...I'm scared of money! No, not quite. But this is not easy to think about, let alone do. I've been able to earn money so far for my plane ticket and for getting ready to go through small jobs, but I'm going to need support while I'm there and for another plane ticket. My church body is aware I'm going, but when it comes down to details about how to give, it seems fuzzy and I'm really nervous about talking to people about it.
What I really want to do is just "wait on God" for the money. I've heard of missionaries who do that. The Lord leads them not to ask for money, and then He just sends it to them from random sources. It's a big faith building thing. I almost dare to say I have enough faith for that.
But, unfortunately/fortunately, I don't think I'm allowed to try that method this time. I have to actually communicate with human beings! :) Imagine that. What I'm having trouble having faith for is Asking-People-For-Money. That good ol' pride and fear of man stuff. Ok, Lord.
I just want to say, "God, I can't. I just can't." But I can't say can't. Not to God. Not now. Not ever. It seemed so easy when I sent support letters for Hong Kong and India missions trips. It was all layed out- they told me what to do. I did it. Didn't really think twice. Letters went out, money came in.
But now seems so different...it's a different situation, sort of. I think I expected to outgrow the support letter thing. I thought I would pass the test and maybe move on to a different level :)
So, baby steps. One step at a time. All I have to do is trust and do the next thing He says to do. When the waters rise to overwhelm me, He will rescue me. No fear, no pride of mine is too big for Him to deal with. So may He deal away!
I really want to learn to surrender and trust, not just God, but the people around me. Even around the ones I'm closest to, I try to hide my real needs or desires because I'm afraid that I'll inconvenience them, impose on them, or make them feel uncomfortable. But, it's like Mom told me one day about some other matter..."You need impose on people! We all impose on each other."
I try not to breath your air, give you germs, or cause even the hint of an unpleasant thought. Far be it from me to ask you for something! I think of it as being nice, but it's not very Biblical, is it? And in the end, it's really not very nice!
I usually like it when people "impose" on me...ask me for things, ask questions, ask for my time, hugs, care, help, love, and yes, money. It makes me feel loved and needed. Without it, I get extremely lonely. So probably, people would want me to do the same for them. How in the world can we be a community without imposing on each other?
Whether it's emotionally, physically, spiritually, financially, or whatever, it's so hard for me to shed my idea of what's "proper" and trust that people will actually love me, needs and all.
Please pray for me in this, that I'd have courage to obey the Lord and that this would be healthy and good for my relationships with people, and just for our church body.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
No Formula for That
"Love has taken away my practices
and filled me with poetry.
I tried to keep quietly repeating,
No strength but yours,
but I couldn't.
I had to clap and sing.
I used to be respectable and chaste and stable,
but who can stand in this strong wind
and remember those things?"
-Rumi, from "Buoyancy"
That's how it is. It seems like it should be grand enough to have the promise of God's strength, "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength," but there's something so much bigger than just getting by. It's called Love.
After all, what's the greatest commandment?
"The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.'"
Mark 12:29-30
So I'm running around, half mad, thumbing open Rumi and Hafiz every little while to be baffled and delighted once again. And I have lots of questions. Like, did these guys believe Jesus was the Son of God, or did they think he was just a nice prophet? How could anybody possibly write about God's love like that and not believe? What exactly were the Sufis like? What can I learn from them? Can I trust what these heretic Muslims are saying? They weren't good Muslims. They weren't good Christians. But neither am I.
The morning after I read Rumi till 3 a.m. I woke and jumped out of bed, scandalized, and quickly started singing safe, contemporary Christian choruses, just to reel myself back in. I felt that I had sneaked into heresy's bedroom, not intending to be bad, but just to see if it really was heresy in there or not. What scared me is that I hadn't found a satisfactory answer to that question, and I fully intended to return every night until I did.
It's so scary to step out on a limb and even read a book that might be part truth but not all-the-way-truth. Careful worldview training has taught me to reject any vestiges of "tolerance," which I have always wholeheartedly done. I'm the queen of throwing the baby out with the bath water. Maybe I share my throne with Lauren :P
But the time has come to step out and risk it. The box I've let my "religion" become has nearly succeeded in suffocating me while my back was turned! It's so nice to know that God won't let me be snatched out of His hand. His love is the biggest thing in the world (think about sending your only Beloved to die on a cross and see if it's not), so I'm not fall off somewhere.
Rooted and grounded in the absolute of Jesus Christ and His loving boundaries, I am free to run, to explore, to love, to dream, to read crazy poetry and smile and say "that's how it is," and "that's how it isn't" if need be.
Here in America, we're so young, so green at being human, really. We have no ancient ruins. Not much history. We have a beautiful, godly heritage and an amazing story of freedom and Gods' hand. But we are young. There is not much mystery here, not much hidden under our sod. Generally speaking, we're more concerned with practical things rather than spiritual things. We have a lot to share with struggling nations in the East. But the East has a lot to give to us.
In India, for example, people are completely wrapped up in their spiritual nature. This usually looks bad and creepy, (worshipping cobras, setting up altars to stones, becoming one with the rainbow), but the truth is, God made them like that. They are seeking Him, ultimately, whether they discover Him or not in all their mess. So, while we are busy trying to fit life into a box, they are constantly peering into the box and taking life out, piece by piece exploring it. We want to make sense; they want something bigger than sense.
This is such a relief to me. I don't have to try to fit life into a box for the rest of my days, 9 to 5, fall semester, spring semester, summer. I just wasn't made to do that! I can live with the curious mind of a child, always discovering more of God at every turn and reveling in it! Every day there will be something new. What you see is not what you get. His love is higher than the mountains and deeper than the ocean. So, no formula for figuring that!!!
I will never know who the Lord is while I am on this earth. I know Him and love Him now in part, but it won't be till "The Divine Wedding Day" that I cease staring into that dingy mirror of Paul's and finally get to see the real thing. Yahoo!
and filled me with poetry.
I tried to keep quietly repeating,
No strength but yours,
but I couldn't.
I had to clap and sing.
I used to be respectable and chaste and stable,
but who can stand in this strong wind
and remember those things?"
-Rumi, from "Buoyancy"
That's how it is. It seems like it should be grand enough to have the promise of God's strength, "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength," but there's something so much bigger than just getting by. It's called Love.
After all, what's the greatest commandment?
"The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.'"
Mark 12:29-30
So I'm running around, half mad, thumbing open Rumi and Hafiz every little while to be baffled and delighted once again. And I have lots of questions. Like, did these guys believe Jesus was the Son of God, or did they think he was just a nice prophet? How could anybody possibly write about God's love like that and not believe? What exactly were the Sufis like? What can I learn from them? Can I trust what these heretic Muslims are saying? They weren't good Muslims. They weren't good Christians. But neither am I.
The morning after I read Rumi till 3 a.m. I woke and jumped out of bed, scandalized, and quickly started singing safe, contemporary Christian choruses, just to reel myself back in. I felt that I had sneaked into heresy's bedroom, not intending to be bad, but just to see if it really was heresy in there or not. What scared me is that I hadn't found a satisfactory answer to that question, and I fully intended to return every night until I did.
It's so scary to step out on a limb and even read a book that might be part truth but not all-the-way-truth. Careful worldview training has taught me to reject any vestiges of "tolerance," which I have always wholeheartedly done. I'm the queen of throwing the baby out with the bath water. Maybe I share my throne with Lauren :P
But the time has come to step out and risk it. The box I've let my "religion" become has nearly succeeded in suffocating me while my back was turned! It's so nice to know that God won't let me be snatched out of His hand. His love is the biggest thing in the world (think about sending your only Beloved to die on a cross and see if it's not), so I'm not fall off somewhere.
Rooted and grounded in the absolute of Jesus Christ and His loving boundaries, I am free to run, to explore, to love, to dream, to read crazy poetry and smile and say "that's how it is," and "that's how it isn't" if need be.
Here in America, we're so young, so green at being human, really. We have no ancient ruins. Not much history. We have a beautiful, godly heritage and an amazing story of freedom and Gods' hand. But we are young. There is not much mystery here, not much hidden under our sod. Generally speaking, we're more concerned with practical things rather than spiritual things. We have a lot to share with struggling nations in the East. But the East has a lot to give to us.
In India, for example, people are completely wrapped up in their spiritual nature. This usually looks bad and creepy, (worshipping cobras, setting up altars to stones, becoming one with the rainbow), but the truth is, God made them like that. They are seeking Him, ultimately, whether they discover Him or not in all their mess. So, while we are busy trying to fit life into a box, they are constantly peering into the box and taking life out, piece by piece exploring it. We want to make sense; they want something bigger than sense.
This is such a relief to me. I don't have to try to fit life into a box for the rest of my days, 9 to 5, fall semester, spring semester, summer. I just wasn't made to do that! I can live with the curious mind of a child, always discovering more of God at every turn and reveling in it! Every day there will be something new. What you see is not what you get. His love is higher than the mountains and deeper than the ocean. So, no formula for figuring that!!!
I will never know who the Lord is while I am on this earth. I know Him and love Him now in part, but it won't be till "The Divine Wedding Day" that I cease staring into that dingy mirror of Paul's and finally get to see the real thing. Yahoo!
What Pollyanna has to say to all of us...
This is an article called "Sincerely, Pollyanna", by somebody named Elisabeth Adams. When I read it, I thought, "exactly!" Possibly, I'm not a pessimist like I thought I was. Maybe I've grown up a Pollyanna and just now become acquainted with pain...
http://www.boundless.org/2005/articles/a0001770.cfm
http://www.boundless.org/2005/articles/a0001770.cfm
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