Check out this short movie, scored by local artist Cat Jahnke.
CTRL Z
Monday, January 25, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
guns and butter
“What would happen if we were to do away with our armed forces?
If that sounds foolish it’s probably because the idea of disarming would be as unwise today as it would have been in ancient Israel. It doesn’t make sense to lay down weapons in a world where God has often used them to protect His people.”
These words, from the 1997 edition of Our Daily Bread (yeah, I’m a bit behind in my reading . . . ) were jarring to me.
Perhaps because immediately after I read the first line, I was filled with a feeling of peace and excitement. What if we were to do away with our armed forces? What if everyone was to? What if there were no guns or projectile weapons? This sentence enabled me to envision a world which offered more peace to people than the world we live in today.
But then I read on. And apparently I am foolish, and am denying God’s blessing of violent weapons, as this article states.
I simply can’t find God within violent acts. Or violent weapons. Or violent toys, or violent words. I cannot reconcile the person of Jesus with my country’s commitment to violence overseas, and violence to its own people.
The idea of ancient Israel laying down its weapons doesn’t seem foolish to me. Instead, it seems radical. Loving. Countercultural and meaningful. It seems embracive of a different way of living, a way in which all God’s children are respected and nurtured.
Unwise? Most certainly. Radical? Yes. Affirming of God’s life, creation, peoples, words of peace? Most definitely.
If that sounds foolish it’s probably because the idea of disarming would be as unwise today as it would have been in ancient Israel. It doesn’t make sense to lay down weapons in a world where God has often used them to protect His people.”
These words, from the 1997 edition of Our Daily Bread (yeah, I’m a bit behind in my reading . . . ) were jarring to me.
Perhaps because immediately after I read the first line, I was filled with a feeling of peace and excitement. What if we were to do away with our armed forces? What if everyone was to? What if there were no guns or projectile weapons? This sentence enabled me to envision a world which offered more peace to people than the world we live in today.
But then I read on. And apparently I am foolish, and am denying God’s blessing of violent weapons, as this article states.
I simply can’t find God within violent acts. Or violent weapons. Or violent toys, or violent words. I cannot reconcile the person of Jesus with my country’s commitment to violence overseas, and violence to its own people.
The idea of ancient Israel laying down its weapons doesn’t seem foolish to me. Instead, it seems radical. Loving. Countercultural and meaningful. It seems embracive of a different way of living, a way in which all God’s children are respected and nurtured.
Unwise? Most certainly. Radical? Yes. Affirming of God’s life, creation, peoples, words of peace? Most definitely.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Shat.
Our real journey in life is interior: it is a matter of growth, deepening, and of an ever greater surrender to the creative action of love and grace in our hearts. - Thomas Merton
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
2010
HI MOM!
I’m glad you’re reading this.
Anyway . . .
A number of people have asked me if I am making any New Year’s resolutions for 2010. I guess I just might seem like the type to do so?
Well, I am. Sort of. But I normally make these resolutions around my birthday, which I find much more of a significant milestone.
On my 29th, I made a commitment to pursue 3 things this year: courage, movement, and self-love. I also forced my close friends to participate in a bizarre birthday ritual focusing on these 3 pursuits (thanks for doing that with me, friends). These three words are very powerful to me, and have been shaping my life and my everyday activities over the past 2 months.
What is good about new year’s is that it comes exactly 2 months after my birthday. It is an opportunity to remember the commitments I have made, to refocus and regroup. What I LOVE about New Year’s is that it always feels so fresh, so promising, like an opportunity to start anew. It reminds me of the resurrection of Christ, of being reborn, of all the promises in Paul’s letters about who we truly are in Christ. New Year’s reminds me that everyday I have the opportunity to start over, to start fresh and clean, to remember that I am clothed in Christ and that through Christ’s person and actions that I am made brand spanking new. The imagry of being clean is powerful to me today, and sort of makes me cry. I guess that’s connected to my need to work on self-love.
So New Year’s reminds me of who I am. And the commitment I have made to myself to keep exploring who I am, keep exploring Christ, and to try and hold true to all that I have learned in this life, and to hold true to who I understand myself and Christ to be. And it reminds me of the abundant grace that has been offered to me, the wonderful gift that I have and my ability to wake up every morning with a clean slate. To be reminded that I am a forgiven and renewed being, free from any blemish deadly enough to separate me from the Love of God. Also theoretically free from anything significant enough to separate me from loving myself. Which I guess is still a lesson I need to learn . . . .
Grace Grace Grace
I’m glad you’re reading this.
Anyway . . .
A number of people have asked me if I am making any New Year’s resolutions for 2010. I guess I just might seem like the type to do so?
Well, I am. Sort of. But I normally make these resolutions around my birthday, which I find much more of a significant milestone.
On my 29th, I made a commitment to pursue 3 things this year: courage, movement, and self-love. I also forced my close friends to participate in a bizarre birthday ritual focusing on these 3 pursuits (thanks for doing that with me, friends). These three words are very powerful to me, and have been shaping my life and my everyday activities over the past 2 months.
What is good about new year’s is that it comes exactly 2 months after my birthday. It is an opportunity to remember the commitments I have made, to refocus and regroup. What I LOVE about New Year’s is that it always feels so fresh, so promising, like an opportunity to start anew. It reminds me of the resurrection of Christ, of being reborn, of all the promises in Paul’s letters about who we truly are in Christ. New Year’s reminds me that everyday I have the opportunity to start over, to start fresh and clean, to remember that I am clothed in Christ and that through Christ’s person and actions that I am made brand spanking new. The imagry of being clean is powerful to me today, and sort of makes me cry. I guess that’s connected to my need to work on self-love.
So New Year’s reminds me of who I am. And the commitment I have made to myself to keep exploring who I am, keep exploring Christ, and to try and hold true to all that I have learned in this life, and to hold true to who I understand myself and Christ to be. And it reminds me of the abundant grace that has been offered to me, the wonderful gift that I have and my ability to wake up every morning with a clean slate. To be reminded that I am a forgiven and renewed being, free from any blemish deadly enough to separate me from the Love of God. Also theoretically free from anything significant enough to separate me from loving myself. Which I guess is still a lesson I need to learn . . . .
Grace Grace Grace
Monday, December 21, 2009
christmas = anxiety
so i volunteered to put together some sort of service/ritual for our ever increasingly interfaith family - our traditional christmas eve service just isn't going to work anymore.
and i was excited about putting something together, something meaningful, which can really bring us all together in some sort of way. something short and special. mom's really into the idea, and is trusting me to put together something fantastic.
But my problem is that my brain is tired, and i am also nervous about putting my heart out there again, for fear that this whole thing will turn into a laughable chore.
faith discourse has been a tricky thing in our family the last few years; what i find most difficult about it is the lack of support which often creeps up for everybody's individual faith journeys. discourse often turns into debate turns into hurt feelings turns into further frustration. but at the same time it holds so much potential.
so i am hopeful about the potential of this little exercise, but also am aware of how my spirit might be crushed in this process. i would like to offer something as a gift, and fear that its just not going to fly or be respected. my stomach hurts.
anxiety. all over. we'll see how it goes i guess.
b
and i was excited about putting something together, something meaningful, which can really bring us all together in some sort of way. something short and special. mom's really into the idea, and is trusting me to put together something fantastic.
But my problem is that my brain is tired, and i am also nervous about putting my heart out there again, for fear that this whole thing will turn into a laughable chore.
faith discourse has been a tricky thing in our family the last few years; what i find most difficult about it is the lack of support which often creeps up for everybody's individual faith journeys. discourse often turns into debate turns into hurt feelings turns into further frustration. but at the same time it holds so much potential.
so i am hopeful about the potential of this little exercise, but also am aware of how my spirit might be crushed in this process. i would like to offer something as a gift, and fear that its just not going to fly or be respected. my stomach hurts.
anxiety. all over. we'll see how it goes i guess.
b
Monday, December 14, 2009
Painful Liberation
Well well.
Well.
Back from Thailand. As with many of these experiences, I am unsure what to say about it. Still processing a lot; still figuring things out. What happened out there? So much.
And who am i?
These last three years or so, and especially the last few months, have been a whirlwind of changes, non-stop, in almost every aspect of life. It feels like nothing is the same except for my parents, who offer me a wonderful and stable presence in my life.
But in the midst of such life rocking changes, it feels like I am trouble grasping any true sense of identity for myself. Who am i? what have I become? Why do I change so often? Is this a good thing? Or am I running from something?
It feels like every rock that I have rejoicefully identified myself with just a few years ago have been shattered. Sometimes sadly, sometimes joyfully and in a liberating way. My faith looks quite different than it did in my providence days; my view of ministry has been dramatically altered and the way I interact with my God has changed considerably. She has become more mystical and beautiful and more mysterious, but also more elusive at times; less tangible and more . . . bigger? My environment changes constantly, both with my living situation, and with my surroundings – lots of travel. Which is exciting but leaves me with the lack of a home to connect with and take refuge in. I feel like I have gained the world, but lost my home in this process. The career path I strongly identified with now holds little interest for me . . . and so on and so on with pivitol relationships, belongings, even the food that I eat. Everything has changed.
In Thailand we spoke a lot about identity, and how our identities intersect with systems of privilege and oppression. I wish we would have dwelled a bit more on how our identities impact us as people and as communities outside of these systems. Because I feel a bit lost, and yet found, and find myself looking for direction in what feels like a vast amount of empty space.
I don’t know if this makes sense to anyone but myself. I wonder and am haunted this week by how much I have changed, and sometimes I even wonder if I am on the right road. Much of my theology and lifestyle changes have been liberating, and have released me from a limiting box of social rules and a limited, black-and-white God. But each of these liberations have come with a certain amount of pain and with a prying away of something that was once really important to me. Painful liberation. On one hand I feel blessed to have had these experiences, but on the other I think it may have all happened too quickly; that within the span of 3 years God turned my world upside down in so many ways. Which I was excited about but am now crashing a bit because I feel a bit lost in the wilderness and unsure of who I am anymore.
Without a God of black and white rules, how am I to behave? Without rigid social norms, how do I know how to define myself? Without culturally-bound social values and constructs of gender, God, right, wrong, identity, spirituality, sexuality, music, prayer, dance, joy, peace, stability, who am I without these things?
Liberated. I guess. I know. I know these are good things. I know I am very thankful for my journey the past three years. I am thankful of who I have become. I just hope to some day figure out who that is. Because every day I feel like I am falling.
Well.
Back from Thailand. As with many of these experiences, I am unsure what to say about it. Still processing a lot; still figuring things out. What happened out there? So much.
And who am i?
These last three years or so, and especially the last few months, have been a whirlwind of changes, non-stop, in almost every aspect of life. It feels like nothing is the same except for my parents, who offer me a wonderful and stable presence in my life.
But in the midst of such life rocking changes, it feels like I am trouble grasping any true sense of identity for myself. Who am i? what have I become? Why do I change so often? Is this a good thing? Or am I running from something?
It feels like every rock that I have rejoicefully identified myself with just a few years ago have been shattered. Sometimes sadly, sometimes joyfully and in a liberating way. My faith looks quite different than it did in my providence days; my view of ministry has been dramatically altered and the way I interact with my God has changed considerably. She has become more mystical and beautiful and more mysterious, but also more elusive at times; less tangible and more . . . bigger? My environment changes constantly, both with my living situation, and with my surroundings – lots of travel. Which is exciting but leaves me with the lack of a home to connect with and take refuge in. I feel like I have gained the world, but lost my home in this process. The career path I strongly identified with now holds little interest for me . . . and so on and so on with pivitol relationships, belongings, even the food that I eat. Everything has changed.
In Thailand we spoke a lot about identity, and how our identities intersect with systems of privilege and oppression. I wish we would have dwelled a bit more on how our identities impact us as people and as communities outside of these systems. Because I feel a bit lost, and yet found, and find myself looking for direction in what feels like a vast amount of empty space.
I don’t know if this makes sense to anyone but myself. I wonder and am haunted this week by how much I have changed, and sometimes I even wonder if I am on the right road. Much of my theology and lifestyle changes have been liberating, and have released me from a limiting box of social rules and a limited, black-and-white God. But each of these liberations have come with a certain amount of pain and with a prying away of something that was once really important to me. Painful liberation. On one hand I feel blessed to have had these experiences, but on the other I think it may have all happened too quickly; that within the span of 3 years God turned my world upside down in so many ways. Which I was excited about but am now crashing a bit because I feel a bit lost in the wilderness and unsure of who I am anymore.
Without a God of black and white rules, how am I to behave? Without rigid social norms, how do I know how to define myself? Without culturally-bound social values and constructs of gender, God, right, wrong, identity, spirituality, sexuality, music, prayer, dance, joy, peace, stability, who am I without these things?
Liberated. I guess. I know. I know these are good things. I know I am very thankful for my journey the past three years. I am thankful of who I have become. I just hope to some day figure out who that is. Because every day I feel like I am falling.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
pukeish
Hey everyone!
So . . . I am going to Thailand. I can’t believe it, and today I feel so anxious I might throw up. But it’s a really good type of throw up.
I feel this is exactly where I am supposed to be, and I consider my fear to actually be an affirming sign that I am in the right place.
I will be back on the 12th and, assuming that I don’t get eaten by a Thai spider, expect to return a changed woman. Let me know if you notice a difference.
I am so thankful for all of my family and friends who support me during these times. I can’t imagine being able to live a meaningful life without your love and support. Thank you for the meaning you bring to me.
See you after Thailand. If I have internet access, I might blog about my journeys, we’ll see!
Bre
So . . . I am going to Thailand. I can’t believe it, and today I feel so anxious I might throw up. But it’s a really good type of throw up.
I feel this is exactly where I am supposed to be, and I consider my fear to actually be an affirming sign that I am in the right place.
I will be back on the 12th and, assuming that I don’t get eaten by a Thai spider, expect to return a changed woman. Let me know if you notice a difference.
I am so thankful for all of my family and friends who support me during these times. I can’t imagine being able to live a meaningful life without your love and support. Thank you for the meaning you bring to me.
See you after Thailand. If I have internet access, I might blog about my journeys, we’ll see!
Bre
Monday, November 16, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
i don't even have the emotional capacity to comment on this quote right now.
The circumstances of our lives are another medium of God’s communication with us. God opens some doors and closes others.... Through the wisdom of our bodies, God tells us to slow down or reorder our priorities. The happy coincidences and frustrating impasses of daily life are laden with messages. Patient listening and the grace of the Spirit are the decoding devices of prayer. It is a good habit to ask, What is God saying to me in this situation? Listening to our lives is part of prayer.
- Marjorie J. Thompson
Soul Feast
- Marjorie J. Thompson
Soul Feast
Monday, November 02, 2009
Lots of good stuff here.
Seize the day, if you must, but do so gently and never, ever shake it. All days are not alike, and some of them are just not meant for seizing. Some days you wake up with a headache, a dentist's appointment, and a long to-do list. But that's okay. Seize tomorrow instead and today follow the path of least resistance - because deciding not to seize this particular day is also a form of seizing the day, if you follow my drift.
Likewise, whoever came up with the bright idea that you should live each day as if it were your last has probably never taken this advice . . . what this cliche fails to address is that the day after your imagined last day quickly arrives and transforms your grand exit into an unmitigated disaster. Now you're chubby, broke, jobless, and have really spooked your cute UPS driver. And you're supposed to live this nightmarish new day as if it's your last. You see where I'm going with this - it gets old very fast.
Better advice is to live each year as if it's your last. Pace yourself. Prioritize. Most of all, enjoy the constructive daydreaming it takes to plan your fantasy, because if you don't, you're missing the whole point: Living each day as if it's your last is really about enjoying now. Even if you're not exactly where you want to be yet, there really is a ton of pleasure to be had in stopping to smell the rugosas along the way.
Adventure comes with no guarantees or promises. Risk and reward are conjoined twins . . . there are many good reasons not to toss your life up in the air and see how it lands. Just don't let fear be one of them.
- Mary South
Likewise, whoever came up with the bright idea that you should live each day as if it were your last has probably never taken this advice . . . what this cliche fails to address is that the day after your imagined last day quickly arrives and transforms your grand exit into an unmitigated disaster. Now you're chubby, broke, jobless, and have really spooked your cute UPS driver. And you're supposed to live this nightmarish new day as if it's your last. You see where I'm going with this - it gets old very fast.
Better advice is to live each year as if it's your last. Pace yourself. Prioritize. Most of all, enjoy the constructive daydreaming it takes to plan your fantasy, because if you don't, you're missing the whole point: Living each day as if it's your last is really about enjoying now. Even if you're not exactly where you want to be yet, there really is a ton of pleasure to be had in stopping to smell the rugosas along the way.
Adventure comes with no guarantees or promises. Risk and reward are conjoined twins . . . there are many good reasons not to toss your life up in the air and see how it lands. Just don't let fear be one of them.
- Mary South
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
bodeyes
"A lot of people resist transition and therefore never allow themselves to enjoy who they are. Embrace the change, no matter what it is; once you do, you can learn about the new world you're in and take advantage of it. You still bring to bear all your prior experience, but you're riding on another level. It's completely liberating." - Nikki Giovanni
so. i change a lot.
i try to live my life with a "no parking" attitude - always moving forward, always living and learning. I try to open myself to the power of God and the power of my community and relationships to keep poking me into a continually new creation, to keep learning and growing into my own skin.
with varying degrees of success, i guess.
and i love this way of living.
i don't ever want to sit still. i want to live and move in the Spirit; to follow Her where She leads. Into scary and wonderful places, into both joy and pain. life is not living if it doesn't include both of these.
but then there are times where i wonder if my carpe diem choice of lifestyle has more to do with running from myself than running towards something. that maybe i am not sitting still because i am afraid to. that maybe i have not come as far as i thought i did. and maybe if i sat down and stopped striving to move and change i could actually connect with who i am today and learn things from that person.
i have had a difficult time relaxing lately. even star trek dvds aren't helping. i am restless, my spirit is agitated, and i can't sit.
these last few months i have been both running from and connecting to my body. at the same time. which is tricky to do, but i have have figured out the awkward balance. i pay attention to my need to connect with my body, with my need for yoga and chi and healing. but am frightened of and avoid that quiet place which i used to love sitting in. in my tent in the early mornings, or in the corner of my office when my day got too ridiculous. wrapped in the arms of Christ.
i wonder where this new fear stems from.
perhaps from the fear of connecting to and having a relationship with my own slightly broken body. to admit my physical mortality. The last few years have been so focused on my spiritual being that i have been neglectful of my physical being. perhaps even my emotional being. to admit the limits of this body, and of my short lifetime on earth, smacks of ridiculousness, stemming from my evangelical upbringing. i was brought up to always look forward to heaven, to write off what happens on this earth. that was REALLY matters comes next.
so i have a strong concept of my spiritual being. i am connected to her and her strengths and her needs and her weaknesses and her need to be challenged, to be loved, to always be changing and growing.
and it seems strange that in such a time - a time where i have spent countless hours working and focusing on my body in many different ways than i ever have before, that i realize my emotional disconnectedness from its functionings and its non-functionings.
what place does my body have in my spirituality?
what place does my spirituality have in my body?
and how do the two fit together?
time for quiet. i guess.
so. i change a lot.
i try to live my life with a "no parking" attitude - always moving forward, always living and learning. I try to open myself to the power of God and the power of my community and relationships to keep poking me into a continually new creation, to keep learning and growing into my own skin.
with varying degrees of success, i guess.
and i love this way of living.
i don't ever want to sit still. i want to live and move in the Spirit; to follow Her where She leads. Into scary and wonderful places, into both joy and pain. life is not living if it doesn't include both of these.
but then there are times where i wonder if my carpe diem choice of lifestyle has more to do with running from myself than running towards something. that maybe i am not sitting still because i am afraid to. that maybe i have not come as far as i thought i did. and maybe if i sat down and stopped striving to move and change i could actually connect with who i am today and learn things from that person.
i have had a difficult time relaxing lately. even star trek dvds aren't helping. i am restless, my spirit is agitated, and i can't sit.
these last few months i have been both running from and connecting to my body. at the same time. which is tricky to do, but i have have figured out the awkward balance. i pay attention to my need to connect with my body, with my need for yoga and chi and healing. but am frightened of and avoid that quiet place which i used to love sitting in. in my tent in the early mornings, or in the corner of my office when my day got too ridiculous. wrapped in the arms of Christ.
i wonder where this new fear stems from.
perhaps from the fear of connecting to and having a relationship with my own slightly broken body. to admit my physical mortality. The last few years have been so focused on my spiritual being that i have been neglectful of my physical being. perhaps even my emotional being. to admit the limits of this body, and of my short lifetime on earth, smacks of ridiculousness, stemming from my evangelical upbringing. i was brought up to always look forward to heaven, to write off what happens on this earth. that was REALLY matters comes next.
so i have a strong concept of my spiritual being. i am connected to her and her strengths and her needs and her weaknesses and her need to be challenged, to be loved, to always be changing and growing.
and it seems strange that in such a time - a time where i have spent countless hours working and focusing on my body in many different ways than i ever have before, that i realize my emotional disconnectedness from its functionings and its non-functionings.
what place does my body have in my spirituality?
what place does my spirituality have in my body?
and how do the two fit together?
time for quiet. i guess.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Peg. By Kelly Hughes.
Award-winning Winnipeg author . . . Chandra Mayor says Winnipeg is a real DIY city. And she's right. Winnipeg is the MacGyver of Canada. We're not drowning in endowments and corporate cash, so we make our own fun with a paper bag, an elastic, a few buttons and some pipecleaners. Mr. Dressup would be proud. And we should be proud too. We should hold our heads a little higher, and lose the loser mentality. We as a city can slough off our mantle of insecurity and self-loathing, without losing our soul or sense of humour. These things can go: Complaining, Second-guessing, Indecision, Jeanne's Cakes, Peter Nygard, Burton Cummings' mustache. These things can stay: Feistiness, Good Prices, Bad Jokes about the Weather, Gunn's applejacks, Richard Hurst's mustache. And maybe, just maybe, by the time Gail Asper's Canadian Museum for Human Rights is built, we'll be ready to be the next Bilbao, Spain.
-Kelly Hughes, Aqua Books
-Kelly Hughes, Aqua Books
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Psalm 63
O God, you are my God;
I earnestly search for you.
My soul thirsts for you;
my whole body longs for you
in this parched and weary land
where there is no water.
I have seen you in your sanctuary
and gazed upon your power and glory.
Your unfailing love is better than life itself;
how I praise you!
I will praise you as long as I live,
lifting up my hands to you in prayer.
You satisfy me more than the richest feast
I will praise you with songs of joy.
I lie awake thinking of you,
meditating on you through the night.
Because you are my helper,
I sing for joy in the shadow of your wings.
I cling to you;
your strong right hand holds me securely.
But those plotting to destroy me will come to ruin.
They will go down into the depths of the earth.
They will die by the sword
and become the food of jackals.
But the king will rejoice in God.
All who trust in him will praise him,
while liars will be silenced.
I earnestly search for you.
My soul thirsts for you;
my whole body longs for you
in this parched and weary land
where there is no water.
I have seen you in your sanctuary
and gazed upon your power and glory.
Your unfailing love is better than life itself;
how I praise you!
I will praise you as long as I live,
lifting up my hands to you in prayer.
You satisfy me more than the richest feast
I will praise you with songs of joy.
I lie awake thinking of you,
meditating on you through the night.
Because you are my helper,
I sing for joy in the shadow of your wings.
I cling to you;
your strong right hand holds me securely.
But those plotting to destroy me will come to ruin.
They will go down into the depths of the earth.
They will die by the sword
and become the food of jackals.
But the king will rejoice in God.
All who trust in him will praise him,
while liars will be silenced.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
hmmm
anonymous, geez, winter 2006
"our prosperity has not been sinful . . . but if it seperates us so much from the poor, how can we say it is a blessing from God?"
Super interesting. Is it possible that what we normally consider blessings to actually be curses, seperating us from richer blessings?
Hmm.
"our prosperity has not been sinful . . . but if it seperates us so much from the poor, how can we say it is a blessing from God?"
Super interesting. Is it possible that what we normally consider blessings to actually be curses, seperating us from richer blessings?
Hmm.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
pain
anonymous, Geez, Winter 2006
The closer you are to pain is the closer you are to God. Instead of fixing people and cleaning up the cities, we should be seeking to celebrate the gifts of the people, find functional places for them in small communities, and continue to communiate to them their immediate and eternal importance as hosts of the spirit of love and agents of healing to others who have been hurt . . . we will not save people through words and sinners prayers, but through vibrant love.
The closer you are to pain is the closer you are to God. Instead of fixing people and cleaning up the cities, we should be seeking to celebrate the gifts of the people, find functional places for them in small communities, and continue to communiate to them their immediate and eternal importance as hosts of the spirit of love and agents of healing to others who have been hurt . . . we will not save people through words and sinners prayers, but through vibrant love.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
love this.
On Sabbath: We can teach ourselves the art of prayerfully and re-creatively wasting time. Most of us are already able to waste considerable time joylessly and unintentionally . . . the deliberate wasting of time by doing nothing can be an important spiritual discipline, especially if it is done with joy and in the spirit of re-creation. We may feel guilty and definitley out of step since everyone else looks so purposeful and busy. Yet a little holy time-wasting can create a bit of a true sabbath . . . we can rejoice in God's gift of time as we slow down to savor it. -Margaret Guenther
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
rest.
Excessive busyness, particularly in the service of a good cause, is an effective way of hiding from God and from our own deepest self. -Margaret Guenther
Wow. That one cuts deep, yeah?
I think there is a lot of wisdom in this quote. I have found it to be very true in my own life. There was a time where I was so busy busy busy running around, doing ministry in the providence dorm and in my church plant and within my family and within my youth group that I never allowed time for self-reflection or for personal development. I once believed that this was the way to go; that we are called to lives of giving giving giving, working hard and looking forward to the next life for rest.
But I can’t do that anymore. And I don’t want to. It took so long to make the mental shift from considering time spent alone as being selfish to seeing time spent alone being vital to selflessness. That ministry is not something to give away, but to be and live and find joy and rest in. That my soul is just as valuable as the next, that I am not called to sacrificing myself and my health to the point where I am destroyed, that listening to God’s voice requires the life quietness which only true rest can bring.
But rest is difficult. Not only because my mind is haunted by the million of things that it seems I should be doing, but because it is difficult to sit. To be myself. To reflect on who I am and who God in in ways which are healthy and not self-condemning. The enjoyment you get from conversing with yourself is completely dependent on how much you like yourself as a person and as a spiritual being. Sitting by yourself when you feel comfortable in your own skin is torturous. And important. And may be the only place where you can experience true grace.
Random thoughts.
Wow. That one cuts deep, yeah?
I think there is a lot of wisdom in this quote. I have found it to be very true in my own life. There was a time where I was so busy busy busy running around, doing ministry in the providence dorm and in my church plant and within my family and within my youth group that I never allowed time for self-reflection or for personal development. I once believed that this was the way to go; that we are called to lives of giving giving giving, working hard and looking forward to the next life for rest.
But I can’t do that anymore. And I don’t want to. It took so long to make the mental shift from considering time spent alone as being selfish to seeing time spent alone being vital to selflessness. That ministry is not something to give away, but to be and live and find joy and rest in. That my soul is just as valuable as the next, that I am not called to sacrificing myself and my health to the point where I am destroyed, that listening to God’s voice requires the life quietness which only true rest can bring.
But rest is difficult. Not only because my mind is haunted by the million of things that it seems I should be doing, but because it is difficult to sit. To be myself. To reflect on who I am and who God in in ways which are healthy and not self-condemning. The enjoyment you get from conversing with yourself is completely dependent on how much you like yourself as a person and as a spiritual being. Sitting by yourself when you feel comfortable in your own skin is torturous. And important. And may be the only place where you can experience true grace.
Random thoughts.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
i guess i'm a communist.
When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist. -Dom Helder Camara
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