On The Way Home

Words and Gratitude

2012-01-20T17:02:00.002-05:00

There's a scarcity of words these days, but I am grateful for:

Hugs around the knees from a random toddler in the middle of the road.

Victor, 8 yrs old, with his "sidra" sitting next to me here at the internet, asking about "tu tierra."

Squatting by Estela washing clothes, catching up with neighborhood happenings.

"Madea Goes to Jail" with C and K late at night in my tree house.

Real coffee. And handkerchief filters.

Torrential rain. And a full tank to bathe/wash with.

Ezekiel. And Words from God.

Hard silences and learning to listen.

Uncontainable laughter at the ri-di-cu-lous pictures that a mac can take.

Mexican food in Peru.

Hearing dear voices and laughter on the other end of the line.

Late night conversations about grace in the dark with KB

KB's afternoon training program - jogging through Nauta streets and around Sapi Sapi.

Lunch at C's with fried fish and four niños.

Music... and songs that get you where you're at.

The missing. We only miss what we value.

Hope. I hear it does not disappoint.

Faces. (with great joy)

2012-01-05T10:39:00.002-05:00

(This is probably my favorite book of all time, apart from the Bible)

Hebrews 4 talks about entering God's rest

(believing, trusting, resting in the truth of His goodness and sufficiency)

but I confess that these last few weeks have been lived writhing on the edge of anxiousness, of fear, of unanswered questions and doubt.

Oddly, right after the exhortation to rest comes this:

"For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart."

v.12

The truth always starts in our hearts.

And even in my sleep last night, God was dealing with my heart... and I woke this morning with clearer vision than I went to bed with last night.

In this book, C.S Lewis addresses the questions of love, of truth, of trust, of the "gods" with his retelling of the myth of Cupid and Psyche. He speaks from the perspective of Psyche's older sister, who is angered and disenchanted with the gods by the way they have dealt with her and her younger sister. In my small opinion, C.S. Lewis is genius.

So, here are some of my favorite quotes from her (the older sister)...

"Isay the gods deal very unrightly with us. For they will neither(which would be best of all) go away and leave us to live our ownshort days by ourselves, nor will they show themselves openly andtell us what they would have us do. For that too would be endurable.But to hint and hover, to draw near us in dreams and oracles, or in awaking vision that vanishes as soon as seen, to be dead silent whenwe question them and then glide back and whisper (words we cannotunderstand) in our ears when we most wish to be free of them, and toshow to one what they hide from another; what is all this butcat-and-mouse play, blindman's buff, and mere jugglery? Why must holyplaces be dark places?"

Why must holy places be dark places? Indeed.

Places of confusion, doubt, hurt, and frustration.

Job found them to be so - senseless heartbreak and God is silent.
As did Moses, carrying a nation capricious and rebellious.
As did David, anointed king, but fleeing for his life and living with the enemy.
As did Esther in a foreign land with her own life and people on the line.
As did Jesus who knew, but still wished for some other way.

David says in the Psalms:

To you, O LORD, I call;
my rock, be not deaf to me,
lest, if you be silent to me,
I become like those who go down to the pit.
Psalm 28:1

When God is silent, I despair... but then again, how often do I shun Him, when I am afraid of what He might say?

The story doesn't stop there - for which I am also grateful. Her eyes are opened, and the older sister sees much more clearly:

“Lightly men talk of saying what they mean... When the time comes to you at which youwill be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at thecentre of your soul for years... you'll not talk about joy of words.I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer.Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babblethat we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we havefaces?”

So much of what we think we mean, we do not understand.

Oh, God, open our eyes... and thank you for your patience to lead us to understanding... Help us to see better, and to see you better... and truly.

"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known."

I Corinthians 13:12

My longing for the new year is to see more clearly, and to be real... whatever that may mean.

"Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen."

Jude 24-25

Musings at the Church Christmas Concert

2011-12-30T10:27:00.000-05:00

God took His love, and made the Infinite as small as a

chromosome,

...and wrapped it in flesh
(bruisable, betrayable flesh)
And lived His love among us

until

we ripped at the packaging and
tore open the gift...

only to find
only
love
and forgiveness inside.

He does not and will not take away
our will, in order to turn us into
automatons or
borgs

but He gives us the freedom to choose...
and when we chose
fear,
control,
manipulation,
hatred,
harm...

He set Himself in the middle of our path,
bent on destruction
and willingly received the brunt of our choice of
"not God"
canceling out all our hurts, and hurtings
("by his stripes...")

to present us with a new way ("I am the Way...")
With all our errors forgiven
and erased
and placed in our hands the
Freedom to do the same.

To give out of the abundance of what
we've been given
and not be black holes
of need

To love with the same abandon
To be an oasis of safety
in a very
unsafe world.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD.For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts."
Isaiah 55:9-10
Oh God. Help me to love like You do.

Estrella del Mar

2011-12-30T08:56:00.001-05:00

Shakespearean Fish

painted on Jess Begin's bathroom wall, '06?

:)

Jesu, Joy...

2011-12-28T10:54:00.001-05:00

Wohl mir, daß ich Jesum habe,

o wie feste halt' ich ihn,

daß er mir mein Herze labe,

wenn ich krank und traurig bin.

Jesum hab' ich, der mich liebet

und sich mir zu eigen giebet,

ach drum laß' ich Jesum nicht,

wenn mir gleich mein Herze bricht.

Jesus bleibet meine Freude,

meines Herzens Trost und Saft,

Jesus wehret allem Leide,

er ist meines Lebens Kraft,

meiner Augen Lust und Sonne,

meiner Seele Schatz und Wonne;

darum laß' ich Jesum nicht

aus dem Herzen und Gesicht.

Praying for a friend this morning, the title of this song came to mind... in English... though now I'm not so sure it was for me instead of her.

The original is so much better.

How is it that God knows

What we need to hear... and when?

Danke, Jesu.

English translation found here.

... make sure to scroll below the German text.

Yours Truly

2011-12-27T21:52:00.003-05:00

Larger than life.

Always kind.

Always loving.

Always knowing the right thing to say.

Never tired

grumpy

profane

scared

weak
awkward

lonely

confused

wrong.

That is the wound.

That the biggest fear.

That I will be weighed and foundwanting.

Hence these stones in my pocket.

guardedness.

cheeriness.

strength.

answers.

image.

reputation.

I thought they were put in my hands byothers

when perhaps expectations weren't met and

grace ran out.

and stony silence filled in

the hole where friendship once was.

but perhaps I was the oneto stoop

and gather them up.

If I threw them all away,

Would you still want me around?

“Got a reputation with everyone. ButI don't want one with you.”

- Derek Webb

“If the Son sets you free, you willbe free indeed.” - Jesus

“There is no fear in love, butperfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, andwhoever fears has not been perfected in love.” - John

Freedom... and freedom from fear

fact? or fiction?

...is it ok that I'm not there yet?

God. For knowing and still loving... I adore you.

and you? what are you afraid of?

Stupid Law.

2011-12-19T00:34:00.002-05:00

How is the law so insidious?

Even knowing the truth that it's allabout grace, that it's all about faith and NOT works, - the law hadcrept back into my life.

I mean – it's about who I am, I know –but what I DO matters too, right?

...I almost didn't noticeit.

I was priding myself on seeking toplease God, and Not going easy on sin in my life – not a bad thing. Actually neither of those are bad things. But as has been pointed out to metime and time again, it's not the bad thing in life that sets itself up against thebest – it's the good. The almost-best. That tricks us and tantalizesus – Eve did not bite into a piece of ugly or rotten fruit.

A few days after a dear friend told methat I was being too hard on myself – and I brushed them off with amental but self-righteous, “how could they understand?” – Godhit me. Very gently. Like He always does...

It started with another friend who hadjust bought a book – and it looked good. So I borrowed it for twodays... 'cause-I-don't-really-have-time-to-read-it, but-I-could-skim-it... and I ended up keeping it for two more days and not being ableto put it down. One thing the author said JUMPED out at me:

“giventhe choice to please God or trust God, good girls becomeconflicted,... [it is like] a fork in the road. The marker to theleft simply says Pleasing God. The one leading to the right readsTrusting God. It is hard to choose one over the other, because bothroads have a good feel to them... it becomes obvious that we will notbe able to jump back and forth between the two paths. We must chooseone. Only one.”

“But isn't trusting God pleasing Him too?” you might ask... and rightfully so. I mean, that'swhat I thought at first, so it must be ok... :) ... but what's your motivation?

Here's the problem:

What if you already werepleasing to God?

What if He already delighted in you? Imean, He made you – so might it not stand to reason that He actually likesyou? Then taking the path “Pleasing God” would be like trying tobuy something that you already had. Or taking a gift back to thestore and trying to pay for it again. Why would you ever want to do that?

God has been hounding me for the lastfour years with the statement, “Crystal, you can't earn love. Youcan't.Can't do it.” And I halfway understand Him... but then try to dojust that, again. Please Him. Please others. Again.... And then I feel likeI'm failing. Again. And I try to run away. Or hide. Or pretend thatall is well... But... What if He already were pleased?... howdang freeing would that be...? To just be loved by Him... and to love inreturn... even if it were imperfectly? And then how much easier totrust Him... if His love truly. is. unconditional?

I was reminded of a teaching aboutJesus that hit me hard once,

waaaaay back:

Before He did any miracles, before hehealed any sick, raised any dead, preached any sermons, restored sight toany blind... before He walked on water and waaaay before He laid Hislife down, God looked down from Heaven and said, “This is mybeloved son, in whom I am well pleased.” Before it all.Before he did anything toearn that.

Sure,you say, but wasn't Jesus perfect? He didn't do anything badeither...

[Oh, Perfect. Somethingthat, alas, I never will be this side of Heaven...

praise God. I so want to be, it is anunholy addiction.]

Yes, He was. And because of that, Iam ok too... because He shielded me as I was in the path of arighteous and holy and perfect God ... and all the imperfect things I ever did, am doing and willever do were nailed to that cross with Him – and they don't countagainst me anymore. None of it. “Forour sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him wemight become the righteousness of God.”Nada. Zilch. Nul. Nothing. The only thing that counts is the stuffthat's for me... that I'm Hisdaughter. And that He made me. And that He likes me. And that I can trustHim.

So. Ithink I am going to practice this. Waking up every day and sayingThank You, Father for being pleasedwith me and for loving me, just as I am. And tell Him that I really hope to hear Him and follow Him around, seeing what He does. 'Cause I knowHe loves me. And He wants to be with me (Jesus said so!). And maybe by being with Him, He'll rub off on me... and people will feel safe around me - like sinners felt with Jesus - and loved - like I am learning to be.

“Andthe Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory,glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of graceand truth.”John 1:14

Merry Everything, friends.

ps. If you're the kind of person that wants a ton of scripture to back up stuff, GREAT. Hit me up and I'll send it all painstakingly detailed your way.

rainy snow days and gratitude

2011-12-16T00:47:00.002-05:00

It started this morning; almost forty degrees outside and still the white flakes swirled about, an answer to an irrationally selfish prayer: "Just one more glimpse, please God..."

Then at Gram's doctor's appointment, a sliver of a gift, pie-size hope for an appointment of my own before going back to Peru... and budgetable as well.

On those heels followed the news that my afternoon AND evening plans were cancelled...

and a snow day was born at noon.

...with the same eager,

wide-eyed,

can't-go-back-to-sleep

anticipation

that I felt as a teacher with no pre-plans, just the ones spontaneous, and wonderfully made...

And why should it surprise me that it's less than two weeks before take-off

and there's still God-room for spontaneity?

And I got to grab coffee with S... while blowing silly kisses to K, who beautifies even the DunkinDs uniform,

and I am grateful for her heart of gold to lend me the book

she had just bought the day before.

And got to drive to Orland and snatch my favorite Grecian goddess from her turret and just wander with the two sisters in Bangor stores, semi-aimlessly among aisles and alleys, laughing over corny product names and smearing our upper lips with love...

that I can still smell when I walk outside...

And out came stories of the past and the present, slipping through the cracks of words spoken in sister-code and translated by eyes and faces

and my shameless questions.

And we stopped by Edge and H stumbled on "Pursuit of Happyness,"

a perfect way to end the evening,

- after they ate (I am so happy when they eat)

food that actually has vitamins and proteins in it,

not just flour and sugar,

and we laughed and ached and rejoiced with Chris Gardner and his son

until the movie was over.

and I have forever burned into my mind their two faces, side-by-side and blue-lit, smiling with genuine happiness, H peering over S's shoulder at the screen on her phone, hiding and seeking out their sister love again...

And the only part of the evening that was hard to thank the Father for was the drive home

and the drop-off

and the splinter of fear

that the next time I see them

their lives might be upside-down again.

but I am now listening... and entrusting...

and I thank God for wise women,

and for Himself, the Forger of paths and the mover of mountains

who sees the end of all things, yet is patient with my blindness and irrational insecurities...

And I am going to bed full,

and with peace,

and so very

grateful.

(Not) A Superhero

2011-12-12T09:50:00.000-05:00

My nephew made me watch this...

(warning: funny but irreverent content)

Ok, so I really don't think I'm goingto end up in the belly of a big fish.

But Jonah is one character inthe Bible I identify with on so many different levels...

His ability to disagree with God...andact on it.

He ran when God said “go,”in the absolute opposite direction.

Sometimes I listen and thenchoose to do precisely what God says not to.

His inertia NOT to get involved.

He was asleep in the bottomof the boat when it was going down.

I too sometimes ignoreproblems and hope they go away.

His sense of justice over mercy(working on this)...

He preferred to see thedestruction of the wicked over their repentence...

I want to decide who isworthy of hearing the gospel -

and who isn't, based on myown personal standards.

His reluctant obedience.

It's not until he's faced with personaldestruction that Jonah finally caves...

Often I have to have myhand burnt before I'll take it out of the fire.

His self-pity...

When he saw God's goodnessto others and grace on the “undeserving,”

he just felt sorry forhimself...

And I confess that mylitany runs on too:

Why them and not me?

This is not what I wantedin serving you

This was not the path Iwould have chosen

And I gripe, and complain

And feel like I'm so abused

And misunderstood

And I feel sorry formyself.

(It's quite ok to laugh now– the ridiculousness of it makes me chuckle too)

His ability to look for comfort in thewrong places...

He was enraged that thevine that God provided died,

you know... the one he didn't plant ormake grow,

but that was providing him with shade,

instead of rejoicing in theglory of the love and mercy of God

on an entire nation,

not understanding that Godloves people ridiculously more than anything else

that He does NOT delight inthe destruction of even the wicked

that in His heart isredemption at any cost... even to Himself,

the foolishness of a crucified king.

And when I see this vinethat I call “home,”

this shelter for heart andbody being taken away from me

I mourn and rage,

even knowing beneath it allthat this is my Lover's heart

that because of His greatlove for ALL – not just for me –

that my temporarydiscomfort is a small price

to Him... and maybe even tome...

because my Shepherd did notconsider himself above me,

did not refuse to leave Hisshade of Heaven

did not refuse us His time

His love

His tears

Hislife.

Andso in this season, I remember
and worship Jesus,

Emmanuel.God with us - God who came.

Avery unorthodox and radical

image of the Father who loves

allof us, the wonderfully undeserving.
...because we don't/can't earn God's love.

andmarvel

thatHe would choose someone as

patheticand unreliable as Jonah

...andas me,

toshare His message.

And He loves me still... this is what gives me the strength to stand.

"And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful......see that you fulfill the ministry that you have received in the Lord."

- Paul to the Colossians

I thank God for Jonah.

“But he answered them, An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.”

Matt 12:39-40

Christmas Cheer

2011-12-03T19:23:00.000-05:00

I heard my brother was sick yesterday so I called him today...

And I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.

We were talking about Christmas

And trees. And decorations.

His girlfriend and her mother were decorating the house for Christmas.

And I had to confess...

I hate Christmas this year.

Maybe it is because of this.

Or this.

Really.

I feel like a Scrooge. And it's the first time in my life that I've ever felt like this.

And I'm ok with that.

My brother said that he felt the same way.

“It's not Christmas, it's the people” he said.

And I mentioned the now infamous pepper-spray incident.

“Yeah. Merry Effin' Christmas, everybody!!!!” he said... in his cheerful, Happy Gilmore voice.

That's when I started to laugh.

And I couldn't stop.

I'm not sure why mayhem on Christmas should be funny, but

Sometimes,

laughter

the

best

option.

And we got on the topic of things that really are funny on Christmas.

Like this.

And this.

And laughed some more.

Can you be pissed and laugh at the same time?

Oh, Lord.

I know Christmas wasn't actually Jesus' birthday.

But. Regardless of what it was originally tied to, when did it become the

“It's-ok-to-obliterate-your-neighbor-as-long-as-you-get-what-you-want” Holiday?

Don't give me that, “It's-all-about-the-children” crap. It's never ok to teach children that getting what you want is the highest end no matter the cost... and that's what I sense out there this year.

Please.

I know there's still good in the world. Still kindness.

Like people who do this, so that they can do this... or this

But

I don't want the “Christmas spirit.”

I don't want a “Make a Difference Day.”

I definitely don't want Sunday Christianity.

I DO achingly long for people to see that

Peace and

Joy and

Life and

Love

can't be bought.

Yet they are worth everything. And worth living every day.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” -Jesus

Lord, have mercy.

Imitations

2011-11-30T10:54:00.001-05:00

It has struck me lately (again) that for all the very good gifts that God gives, the enemy comes up with a easy but broken imitation. One thing I have been privileged to experience for short periods of my life is the beauty of authentic community. Knowing that you are seen with all your strengths and flaws, and are yet still loved - and being able to see others with all their strengths and flaws and still love them is an incredibly freeing place to be. And I confess that here (and often enough there) in my longing for that community, I find myself surfing facebook, blogs - any site might work to get that feeling of connection. But it is a fake - there are no real conversations happening, no real communi-cation. No exchange, no reality, no seeing, and no really loving. You can only love and be loved in gritty relationship.

I John 1:9 states "But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin." Light, sincerity, fellowship, forgiveness. The enemy's imitation is to convince us of the need to project an image of who we want to be seen as - hip, funny, sexy, caring, tough, conservative, liberal, religious, cool, etc. etc.... and try to hold that up for all to see and believe. The problem then is that love can only hit the mask, not the heart... so we are left empty and insecure. So I thought about other imitations and here they are. Forgive my Dr. Seuss-ishness.

Come and trade my friends...

co-dependency for commitment

truth in love that graces and believes

not fear that enables and deceives

social networking for community

bared souls and protected lives

not projected images and vibes

busyness for satisfying work

the important pursued, hard beauty wrought

not the hamster wheel of petty battles fought

cheap thrills for real joy

that comes with giving of your self
not grasping at pleasure and pelf

spirits for The Spirit

Life and freedom deep within

not numbing the pain
a fleeting win.

lust for true love

that doesn't walk away. Sharing

not taking, and willing to stay

when it hurts, is mundane or at odds,

when vision is blurred and uncoversflaws.

That says “you,” not “me,” yet

calls for respect, the hard, not theeasy

“I'm outta here” check.*

Come,everyone who thirsts,

cometo the waters;

andhe who has no money,

come,buy and eat!

Come,buy wine and milk

withoutmoney and without price.

Whydo you spend your money for that which is not bread,

andyour labor for that which does not satisfy?

Listendiligently to me, and eat what is good,

anddelight yourselves in rich food.

Isaiah55:1-2

*Please hear no judgement here. Some of my best friends are divorced for very good reasons. But I venture that what the world calls and proposes as "love" is really selfishness in disguise, a "you for me" mentality and not the "you and I, and I for you" that I see in the Word.

One month away.

2011-11-28T19:53:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure how I feel about being torn in two...

...and a gentle reminder comes... isn't this what I was praying for?

A release from the numbness that has been plaguing me for almost 2 years now?

A mother's heart?

I let a foot here send down a few tender shoots, a few aching roots... is this what it means to long for That Land?

Do I love Peru and the people there?

yes.

Am I going to miss Maine and the people here?

Like sneakers miss laces. Or an envelope misses a letter. Or a cactus misses the desert.

In the ache of pulling away and (trying to) let go, I WILL give thanks.

Thank you God for a family that I love enough to miss.

Thank you for Mom and Gram who continue to meet to pray every night,

For old friendships, strengthened and renewed.

For new friendships, tender but cherished.

For the time spent with H and S and teaching me what it means to love fiercely again.

(oh, Lord ... but Your will be done)

For re-opening my eyes to time savored, not just spent.

For the beauty of your creation here, unique with jagged coast, frigid waters, spruce and fir woods, wool-gray clouds, smoky air and salt breezes.

For time, much too short, with the coolest niece and nephews in this wide world.

For early mornings watching the world awaken and late nights, feeling Your care as it sleeps.

For Gulf Hagas, Great Pond Mountain, Schoodic, Fowler Pond, Thurston Pond and the woods behind the house.

For ninja stars, ninja games, and soccer and sledding in the dark.

For night frolicks by the Penobscot, rolling in leaves, drinking peppermint hot chocolate and watching the tide come in.

For Sunday afternoon walks, the Monkeys and apple baseball.

For the Beatles, magical music, incredible (and young) guitarists, the best acapella 11 year old I've ever heard and my friend the rockstar, Kendall.

For healing Rony.

For the trip to VT ... and beyond.

For reminding me that it's not what I do, it's who I am.

For loving me even though I get restless, confused, self-righteous, and deaf to you.

For giving me the grace to be imperfect... and not quitting on me.

For loneliness, fears, doubt, confusion and even mistakes - for nothing drives me better to my knees and to You.

For reminding me that because of Jesus, it's all worth it.

And for Peru... Oh Lord.

Thank you for humbling experiences – and I pray for relationships restored.

For Juan who faithfully took care of my house.

For Isaac who faithfully took care of my bike. Maybe a bit too faithfully.

For Chris.

For the work you have been doing while I've been gone.

For the chance to see Lains and Omar, Patrick and Juan, Junior and Jessica, Miguel and Aymar, Kender and Daniel, Rita and Ruth... and 200 other niños again.

For the chance to see Dannig and Sandra, Darinka and Marlith, Carlos and Peter again.

For the community that I know you will provide.

For the purpose I know you will give.

For the Paluskys and their vision for the Hurarina tribe... and more.

For the knowledge that You are the same God, no matter where I go... and that I am Yours and You are mine.

To a frenetic-ly good cook

2011-11-25T22:22:00.000-05:00

Beautiful girl...

Your mind is full of thoughts and frettings of what-ifs and if-onlys a

perpetual cyclone of maybe-I-coulds and why-can't-it-bes that

spin round and round, keeping you awake to wee hours and

even in your silences they continually scream out

your shame and

tell you what you have lost and

what you could've

should have

done.

If you had a thousand hands, perhaps

just then

you could hold everything together.

Or if you had ten thousand words, maybe then

you could say the

right ones.

Sweet girl.

Please.

Let the past be for a while...

quiet your mind

about the future

and just breathe.

And better yet...

Turn it All into the hands of

the Greatest Baker.

Who will knead

the bitter

together with

the sweet.

And let it rise

in His time.

To be cooked to the perfection

of His grace.

And He will make something

that will surprise

even the best

and most productive

of cooks.

Inside/Outside

2011-11-25T22:19:00.000-05:00

Your wounds don't show from the outside

Beautiful blue eyes and an angelic face.

Sweet smile and almost always

quiet.

But you don't fool me.

I see you raw and bleeding

unwittingly stabbed

with the daggers of

“made-to-be-used” and

“not-good-enough”

and

“not-worth-it-to-me”

by hands that were created to

hold you instead.

The lies the Liar pours into your heart scald

like boiling oil,

and you are slowly becoming convinced that

ugly

rejectable

too-much

and

wrong

is what you are.

Your problem is

That you still feel.

When so many have shut down and

numbed their pain with

drugs or

sex or

anyeffingthingthatmakesitgoaway.

You still try to swim

lacerated

against the current

of salt water.

Even for that I love you.

And I pray that you will recognize the lies

for what they are.

And I pray that you can see what I see:

a Father who loves you

desperately.

Who stripped and bare

stayed

bleeding on that

rough wood,

to conquer lies, and the liar

and to heal
all the wounds in

your heart.

Because you are

loved

and

wanted

and

longed for

and

delighted in

and

worth it.

Slipping Words

2011-11-25T22:10:00.000-05:00

I feel a great gap between

who I want to be

and

who I am.

Surely the entire world sees

and knows

that this face is not

the true one.

Perhaps that

is why I have no

words

for you.

Nor do I believe

the ones you have

for me.

And the ones

in me

slip like water through my fingers.

I am not even sure

what my face

is like

though I am pretty

sure

it doesn't look

like it

should.

In the Beginning was the Word

2011-11-18T10:08:00.000-05:00

I feel like I've been without words for a long time.
I think they might be coming back.
Maybe they're hiding around the next bend...
I'll just keep walking.
Just in case.

self. justification. and something called humility.

2011-02-21T19:00:00.000-05:00

Lately the theme of self has been rising up strong in my heart. Self-righteousness. Self-justification. Last night was the first night at a small cell group that is springing up from a church whose doors have closed due to lack of a pastor, and I went with two other young men here from Nauta. To my shame, my first thought, my first instinct was pride. “Look what I am doing! Now I have something to write home about, now I have something to show to justify my existence here as a missionary. This is what missionaries are supposed to do, right? Bible studies, and cell groups, leading people to Christ and teaching and training others!” These are good things, but God sees our heart – and it is laughable to have such an attitude of self-aggrandizement. Naturally, f there is any growth, any revelation of Christ there to their hearts, it will come from the Holy Spirit, not from Holy Crystal. Why do we have this need, this hunger to look good to those around us, even spiritually, to justify ourselves in the eyes of men and not first to be pleasing in the eyes of God? I'll tell you. It's pride, which is straight from the sulfurous pit. Do we feel we are lacking? We look for a way to “prove” ourselves worthy. This is not the way of the cross.

Jesus continually said, “not my will, but Yours be done, Father.” Continually. Daily. Hourly. By the minute. This is humility and this is the opposite of the Satanic pride and selfishness that would devour us.

“We must seek a humility that rests in nothing less than the end and death of self; that gives up all the honor of men, as Jesus did, to seek the honor tha comes from God alone; that absolutely makes and considers itself nothing so that God may be all, so that the Lord alone may be exalted. Until we seek humility in Christ as our chief joy and welcome it at any price, there is very little hope of a religion that will conquer the world.” (Andrew Murray, Humility)

This means to take advantage of every opportunity to be stripped of our pride, to die to self, every opportunity to serve, especially the least of these, every chance to be humbled, even humiliated. If there is one thing that comes to mind that makes you say, “But I can't do THAT... what would people think? They would think that I am a fanatic, a lunatic, a misguided fool. I will look foolish, will be thought less of...” Praise God for that very opportunity and take advantage with joy of the chance to be made less that Christ might be made more. Does God call us to praise Him in a public place? Praise Him!! Does He call us to lay your hands on a sick person, on a dead person even – Lay hands and pray that the power of God may be seen and that He might be glorified!! What is the only thing we can lose? Pride. And praise God for its loss!!!! Let's believe that He who called is faithful, and let His glory shine. His. If there is something that comes to mind that makes us say, “THAT is too much for me – it is a work that is too hard, too dirty, too demeaning,” Praise God for such a chance to lose our sense of “rights” and “privilege” and to serve the only Living God with all your being. If there is someone who comes to mind that pushes our buttons or rubs us the wrong way, one who insults us, takes advantage of us or pokes fun at us, praise God!!! These are the people that we need to remind us that we too were loved by God even when we were rebellious, cruel and in desperate need of a Savior. How then did God treat us? With grace, love and truth. Are we accused? Let God be our defender. Are we misunderstood? Let God be the one who sees and understands us. Not that we might take pride in our humility, but that the glory of the Son of God might be seen in us and not ourselves. Not myself. Praise Him!

Poor in Spirit

2010-07-25T16:13:00.000-04:00

"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven,"

God's Kingdom is so backwards, and I confess that I don't understand it, Him, me or the world very well from His perspective. This last summer the discipleship school started, and I had the honor of teaching on the Sermon on the Mount. It opened a whole new world for me into the mind of God who calls us away from well-intentioned but useless works under the law and into rest in His grace as we're called to do the impossible of loving our enemies, turning the other cheek, not judging, and radical trust in God. It all made sense for a very short time and I felt more peace even in the midst of the pre-team storms than I have felt in my life I think.

Then somewhere this Summer I took my eyes off the Savior and set them on men and all that peace fell apart. I could tell you all kinds of things that I've seen God do this Summer in and through the teams... I've seen God heal miraculously, seen deaf ears opened, pains disappear, heard of backs being straightened, lives changed and spiritual eyes opened. I remember a friend saying once though that physical healing is nothing compared to the miracle of transformation of hearts. And right now I feel like there is something going on in my heart that I can only pray that will bear good fruit eventually. I have seen things in my heart in the past few weeks that make me despair of myself and cry out "wretched woman that I am... who will save me from this body of sin and death?" You'd think that with all else that I've seen God do, there'd be hope still in my heart, but hope feels like it's a million miles away and we are to walk there, crippled and vehicle-less.

Paul says in Romans that he knows that "nothing good dwells in me, that is in my flesh." Nothing good. Nothing. How often I thought that I had something to hold onto. Something to claim as my own; i.e. "I am honest, I don't cheat on taxes, I have integrity, I am not jealous, I would never commit adultery, I am responsible, I am kind, I am a servant etc. etc." We are hurt by others, see others' flaws, examine ourselves and find ourselves "clean" in those areas, and end up feeling that we have something to hold onto. Others build us up with encouraging words of what good qualities they've seen in us...which if we don't realize the truth of what Paul says, can easily and subtly turn into pride. And we all know that pride comes before a fall, and I have fallen and feel that I can't see how to get back up. All the faulty characteristics of people that I have judged at one point or another of my life have been unveiled in my own heart and I despair. Adultery (isn't that what God calls idolatry?), jealousy (the same kind that made me withdraw from the church I was attending before), pride, deception (it's amazing how we can speak "truth" to our own hearts and still skirt around the elephant in the room)... they're all there. The very things that I've said that I'd never do, that I abhor, that I don't understand at all - they're all in me. Every last one of them.

"The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked, who can know it?" says Jeremiah. And he's right. Jesus says to the church in Laodicea concerning their hearts " you say I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked." Now if you're wondering what terrible sin I've fallen into, let me put your minds at peace. The only sin apart from stupid things that I've said about people and to people has been revealed in my heart. But according to the Sermon on the Mount, what is in our hearts is just as important to God as what we do. Just as important. We don't understand that very well when we try to justify ourselves with the "but I've nevers...," and "how could hes...?" that come out of our own hypocritical mouths.

So I feel naked, stripped of all good that I thought was my own. Which is good. "Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies it remains alone, but if it dies it bears much fruit." I feel like I'm dying to all that I thought I was. Which is also good. But I've lost a good friend, which I would do almost anything to reverse, but I can't and I don't know where to go from here. In need of a Savior? Yes. Desperately. But when you've been "saved" almost your whole life, you've dealt with issue after issue and faced demon after demon in you... and then you realize that YOU are the biggest problem... I despair. I know that Christ's atoning work on the cross and His redemption are the only things in which we have any hope - but I thought I knew that before and feel like I don't know how to get there. I feel like all my life I thought I was living in, let's say the USA, land of the free and home of the brave, then I found out that it was all a big joke (did you ever watch the Trueman Show?) and now I have no idea how to get to the place that I know really is home. And to be very honest, part of me doesn't want to leave this place because what if I fall away again from this unsparing realization into thinking again that I have something apart from Christ, and I hurt more people?

"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." The first part of that seems very real to me - I have nothing good in myself to offer. But the second part seems like a Divine joke. So here I am in Peru. Maybe you can pray for me.

relative comfort

2010-01-25T20:20:00.000-05:00

I am too comfortable.

I walk into a grocery store and I can buy all the food that I've been wishing I had for the last four months. And for the eight months before that. It's too much.

I am sleeping in a cushy, full-size bed. Pillow top mattress. Pillows. No mosquito net. This is a long call from a thin airmattress on wooden boards, no pillow and a jaguar-proof mosquito net.

There is hot water at my beck and call, it even comes out of a spout that is OVER my head, and I don't have to pour it over myself with a cup. Out of a bucket. With water in it that hasn't been heated.

I can drink half a glass of water, then dump the rest down the drain. Not pour it back into the wash bucket to conserve water, 'cause it hasn't rained in a while. I can even drink the water out of the faucet. No boiling, no buying, no treating. All the water is drinkable. All of it. And dumpable. All of it.

The room in which I sleep is quiet. Real quiet. No roosters crowing. No bats fluttering around. No motocars straining to get up the hill outside the house, no rocks falling on the roof, no dogs barking, no cats fighting, no kids yelling and knocking on the door.

I am not sweating.

The woods outside smell like woods, leafy, pungent and clean. Not like breeding grounds for parasites, bacteria, spiders, snakes, and a trillion other insects that want to suck your blood.

People are wearing new clothes, clean clothes, and wearing shoes that look like they cost more than 5 soles. Or $1.88. Shoot they probably cost more than 150 soles. Or $53. They are driving cars with the windows rolled up and drinking coffee at the same time.

Last night I was driving the Big Black Truck that AIM is letting me use while I'm here. I think it's a Ford and I sit higher than almost all the SUV's on the road out there with me. The Truck has heat, air conditioning, a radio, power steering and probably sucks more gas than any other vehicle I've had in my life. Driving home at night, for the first time driving in almost a year, and there were few other vehicles on the road, the air coming in the vent was leafy and sweet, reminding me of bonfires, hikes, tricker-treating, and the-life-I-had-before. And I liked it. But not enough to even want to stay.

I feel oddly isolated. A bit too pristine. And out of place. Praise God Jesus is here and is the same yesterday, today, forever, in both North and South America and all around the world.

I miss the rotating door, the constant cumbia music, the walk to the market in the morning. I miss seeing people when I walk out of the door, neighbors and people going to and from work, miss speaking Spanish and miss knowing I'm where I'm supposed to be. Though for now, here is where I'm supposed to be. So I'll do my best to be here... but not get too comfortable.

jesus

2010-01-25T18:18:00.000-05:00

First day back is always hard... it's amazing how much better I feel today. Probably has something to do with Jesus. It usually does.

Isaiah 55:1-3
Come, everyone who thirsts,
come to the waters;
and he who has no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without price.

Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
and your labor for that which does not satisfy?
Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,
and delight yourselves in rich food.

Incline your ear, and come to me;
hear, that your soul may live;
and I will make with you an everlasting covenant,
my steadfast, sure love for David.
Happy Friday. :)

useless

2010-01-21T15:52:00.000-05:00

There's something about feeling useless that I don't like.

Like last week when I was laid out with something that woke me in the middle of the night with a shaking fever, then a rotten headache all day where all my body wanted to do was sleep... and I would have been fine with that, except there were people in the house that I wanted to see and there's very little worse to me than lieing there knowing that someone else (hat would be Anita, a pastor's daughter from upriver who came to visit for 4 days) is washing my clothes, my dishes and that there are youth meetings happening that I really want to be a part of but my stupid body just won't cooperate. So I laid there in my bed, tired of resting (good thing I don't get sick often, I'd be miserable to be around I'm sure) and feeling absolutely useless. My friend Cesar says that this is good (I think I've told others this before too) because in truth we are useless and entirely dependent on God and we are closer to Him when we are able to realize this truth. But the truth of this wasn't sinking into my heart... I didn't feel closer to God, just useless.

Another thing that I don't like is feeling alone when there's a bunch of people around... I think that in Peru I had forgotten what that felt like for a while since God sent Chris in January - a good friend a great listener. And to be honest, feeling alone with others around makes me feel useless (chances are my identity is too caught up in what I DO, but what to DO about that? :))... and so here back in the states, day one, I'm back to square one where I was one week ago in my bed in Nauta, but without the good excuse of being sick. Soooo... what am I to learn from this? Maybe it's just re-entry blues that will go away in a few days, or maybe it's an identity issue... or maybe I just haven't gotten enough sleep in the last week to process anything. My comfort is to know that God is God and that He is good - here, there, and even in Haiti right now. Lord have mercy and save us from ourselves. I love that when Jesus left, He left His peace with us which passes all understanding, all circumstances and even our own ridiculous flesh. Grace to you all.

But in Everything...

2009-11-27T12:22:00.000-05:00

"Father, I accept it. Thank you. Thank you for taking my son. I know he was suffering. I accept it Father. Thank you."

Today is Thanksgiving, and these were the very first words of gratitude that I heard. They came from my neighbor Lisbeth, between sobs of anguish. Her 15 month old son, her only son, died this morning after a two month battle with dysentery. We'd been to the hospital three times in the last two weeks. Twice for an IV. We'd been to the pharmacy for loads of medications... but he couldn't eat anymore and this morning he's gone. And she's giving thanks. Numerous people had been in their house to pray for him... we cry out to a God who can raise people from the dead, right? But in the end, there is still death in the world, and who's to blame? So many accusations to be made between her and her young husband. She should have taken him to the hospital sooner, she shouldn't have taken him to a curandero (or witch doctor), he should have worked harder so they would have had better medicine, ... I should have gone over this morning instead of doing my quiet time - didn't I think about it? The family should have been more supportive... but all of this is meaningless now, and does nothing to help those who are suffering. And she gives thanks to God.

My heart breaks for them, and I am confronted by my endless ability to be self-centered, self-pitying, lamenting the loss of "things" that pale in comparison with the value of a human life. Yesterday I was sure that my camera had been taken from the house. Two weeks ago, something else of sentimental and physical value had disappeared, and yesterday I was saddened all day to think that someone I trust had probably taken my camera too - right from my house. Turns out it was in a pocket of my backpack where Isaí had returned it without my knowledge... but I spent the day heavy-hearted, grieving its loss. "In everything ....give thanks," says the word in Philippians 4. Did I think to thank God in the midst of my worry? Not to the extent that Lisbeth did this morning. I was resigned and thinking to look for ways to be grateful to God - but still too miserable to actually do so.

So much of what we have isn't "ours." Ok, so everything we have isn't "ours." Not ours to hang on to as a right at least. Not my camera. Not my friendships. Not my space or my time. Not sons or daughters, husbands, wives, houses, jobs... not even my life. But holding things loosely and letting go isn't effortless - and with gratitude at that. So this morning I think of all the things, friends and loved ones that I have - and I am grateful. And I think of all the things I feel I'm lacking, things God hasn't chosen to set before me yet, ...and I choose gratitude. My neighbors with five young kids to my right eat once a day (no breakfast, no supper - just lunch, sometimes not until 4 in the afternoon). The neighbors to my left live the same way most days - a widowed grandmother raising three young grandkids, with two sons still in the house (not the fathers of the grandkids). And they are grateful. What on earth am I trying to hang on to?

Across the street, little Jair Jafeth is wrapped in white, laying on a table with four candles on each corner. Back in the states today I know millions are eating well, maybe even too well, surrounded by a good family, good hospitals, and clean water. But I also know that even in the states there are those who don't have one or more of those things. I find my peace today in the knowledge that nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. And the promise that "I am my beloved's and He is mine," (SOS 2:16) runs through my heart. The one "thing" that no power, circumstance or person can take away from me. And I'll probably spend a good part of the day and the night of this Thanksgiving sitting with Lisbeth across the street as is custom here...

What are you grateful for today?

Dirt, Doors and Treasures in Heaven

2009-10-19T12:22:00.001-04:00

Well I've been back in Nauta for a week now from Lima and the states, and it has taken me by surprise in some ways. First of all, I was glad to be back. I was (rationally) afraid that if I went back home to the states that I wouldn't want to leave again, and even now it brings tears to my eyes to think of my Gram in her mentally weakened state, and not know if I'll see her again this side of heaven. The time with her, my Mom, Dad, sister and her family was a rich and sweet sweet blessing. And part of me now doesn't even want to call them, for it makes me miss them even more. But I did come back, and there were places in my heart that were glad to be back, not only in Lima, but in Nauta - even irrationally. This is indeed where I am to be. It was so very good to see the kids again - as soon as I got in I put my luggage down and we traipsed over to the "ministerio" to play a short game of soccer in the heat of the afternoon. Some kids were as openly delighted to see me as I to see them, others wouldn't even turn look at me when I first saw them (Patrick and Omar), but then came around later to get a hug, chat and came to the kids club service in my home that next Monday.

I came back to find my house in one piece, though quite dirty. Nothing had been stolen or broken, except the back door, which I am extremely thankful to Cesar for repairing when I didn't even know where to start. Even as a single gal in the jungle, God provides what I am lacking. The house is big and quiet without Chris or the other gals here, but last night it was filled to the brim with neighboring kids as Jovita and I made and decorated cakes for the pastor's wife and son's birthdays. I've been out visiting twice since coming back, and haven't taught in the church once - both of which I'm grateful for for different reasons. I was a bit burned out on teaching in a pastoral setting - not my strength, nor my long-term purpose here. On Tuesday I got to see Neima, who we met last year (2008) when we found out her daughter had died in a playing accident, and she had almost lost her prenatal baby due to the shock. She named her newborn son Bryan, after my last year co-leader and he is big and fat now, with big eyes and a bright smile. She is leaving this Saturday for Lima to meet up with her husband who is working there. If I hadn't gone this week, I would have missed her - and I had the chance to share the grace of Christ with her brother-in-law and to pray with them before they left. Thursday I saw Mayquel's family, if you remember the young man who accepted Christ earlier this year, and talk a bit to his Mom who has been out of the church since she was 16 or17 and met up with Mayquel's father.

Pastor William and his wife Clementina and I have covenanted to meet together twice a week to pray for one another, for the institute plans, and for the other pastors and churches here in Nauta. There is a large event happening at the end of this month called Explosion, put on by YWAM from Columbia, and the church has been slow to mobilize. There were only 5 of the 20+ churches represented at the first pastors meeting I attended on Wednesday, but this morning (Friday) there was a early-morning fast for the churches starting at 6am, and a much better turn out, with a gentle but direct and honest message about unity by one of the young pastors here in town, and a good spirit of willingness on the parts of those attending. Please continue to pray for growing love and unity among the pastors. It breaks my heart to see Christ's beautiful body so at odds and divided.

One thing I fear in confronting here is the message of a prosperity gospel. That spiritual maturity and earthly goods somehow go hand in hand, that material blessing is a sign of approval from God and that poverty is a curse of sinfulness as well as a diabolic imposition of the Catholic church are attitudes that I am constantly encountering in this not-rich place. How do I, poor according to American standards, but lavishly wealthy according to Nautinian standards (the average professional pay rate here is 1000 soles/month, or 330$/month), bring the truth that I see in the gospel, that Christ alone is to be our treasure, our eyes and hearts set on something far more lasting and less physically tangible to our 5 senses here on earth? I am convicted of my own hypocrisy, wanting to hang on to my safety and my chance at comforts (how will I get back home if I don't have enough for airfare saved?) while others aren't sure if they'll have enough for food for the coming day. I cannot very well tell anyone that "blessed are the poor" while I hang tight to my riches. Please pray for discernment in the multitude of requests that come my way - I recognize that creating dependency and not self-realization is a grave error too - and for a generous heart after the heart of God. I feel that I fail more often than I succeed at following Christ well (today was fraught with examples) and am constantly reminded of His incontrovertible and ever-captivating grace.

broken bread and poured out wine

2009-09-30T07:13:00.000-04:00

After posting yesterday, I read Oswald Chambers today. Amazing. I think he's a prophet... can you be that still when you're dead?

loving and being loved

2009-09-28T15:27:00.000-04:00

Why am I so much more concerned about God taking care of me than I am about being broken bread and poured out wine? After being on the mission field (leaving it all, right?) for some time now, I have seen great evidences of God’s love and personal care in my life. Case in point: I am home with my Gram right now – an answer to the prayers of three generations of Christ-lovers that couldn’t have been planned better had I tried. And I didn’t. Grammy, when she saw me, said that I was an answer to her prayers - she has been going through a very hard time, withdrawing from sleeping medication, very anxious and in a dark joyless place. Five days ago, my other Grandma died, so Mom is in Wyoming with my Dad (where she belongs) for his mother’s funeral, and the only way that she could be there is if I were here, with Grammy around the clock. And I am. I, for my part, was desperate to come home, aching for the familiarity and unconditional love of my parents, and every time I prayed, wanting to escape the futility and easily-resistible effort of getting a Peruvian visa, I heard a small voice say “go home.” Home didn’t seem like it should be an option, but when I found the $383 base fare, Lima – Boston, round-trip, it suddenly became one. So here I am, amazed by God’s love and care in my life, my Mom’s life and my Gram’s life all at the same time.

Yet as I was reading Yancey’s book “The Jesus I Never Knew” yesterday, and even Edward’s “The Divine Romance,” their thoughts confirmed some of mine that have been niggling at my mind for over the last year: it strikes me that our goal isn’t just to be loved by God – it is to love God back, passionately and with abandon. Christ’s purpose in coming was not just to save us and make us happy, wealthy and wise. It would seem that when he left , he intended it to be a multiplication process: we are to be his very body here on this earth, to be “Jesus” in so many more places than he could be were he here in person still. If His heart was to listen to the Father in everything, to heal the sick, to love the poor, to reach out to the oppressed and downtrodden, to set the captives free, to lay his life down each day for others, to show the principalities and powers of this world, the traditions of men for the self-interested (and even violent) bullies that they are … then should not our heart beat to do the very same? To have Christ himself made manifest in our very bodies, words heart and actions? It would seem that His kingdom is not one based on politics, programs or ritualistic duties, but rather an up-side down, subversive kind of living where individuals are loved regardless of their past, truth is spoken without weighing the consequences to yourself and everyone is treated with respect, forgiveness and grace – even as they crucify you.

After five years on the “mission field,” I have seen Christ represented well, and represented poorly by those around me. I have seen brothers snubbed by brothers, sisters hurt and even abused by those who would call themselves “spiritual authorities.” I have also seen the poor housed, the sick healed and brothers and sisters walking in freedom they didn’t think possible. I have been lied to and slandered some of the time. I have also learned (some of the time)to proclaim the Truth to myself and walk in forgiveness. I have been sick, exhausted, out of a home and lived out of a backpack for long stretches of time. But never have I lacked a place to lay my head, food on a table, or clothes on my back – not even money in the bank. When confronted with un-grace and downright destructive actions around me, I have been told to take a break, to treat myself, to seek times of refreshing. I have been told to insist on my rights, and make my needs known… but if Christ is to be formed in me, and my hope is to be more like Him, then I have to admit that nowhere in the gospels do I see Jesus choosing himself over others. Even when he tried to retreat and people followed, he still loved them first. I guess I’m having a hard time with the seeming contradictions between the advice to “lose your life in order to gain everything,” to “deny yourself, take up your cross and follow…” and “withhold from serving them, because they don’t deserve it,” or “don’t let people walk all over you.” It also seems painfully clear to me that if we took better care of one another, we wouldn’t have to take such painstaking care of ourselves. May God have mercy on us all.

So, here I am, in beautiful Maine with only two days left to breathe the fresh piney air, hear the breeze rustle through the autumn-hued leaves, take hot showers, put my clothes in a washing machine, hear the sweet hum of non-blood-sucking insects outside… and see my family face to face that I love oh-so-very-very-dearly. God knew that I (and my Gram, and my mom and Dad) needed this, and He (only He!) provided. On Thursday morning at 6am I leave Boston airport to head back south, toward breathtaking combinations of humidity and heat, needs that I can’t meet both financially and emotionally, long days and short nights. Back to brown children whom I love, back to towering skies and starry nights. Back to an aching hunger for community, and great feelings of inadequacy. I am left without answers to so many of my questions, but I do know that God is always faithful. It is my heart’s cry that I will learn to love Him, to love others just as He loves (though I am petty) and loves (though I am whiny) and keeps on loving (though I am broken) …me. May we all be able to receive that in-exhaustible, unconditional and incomparable love of His for us today.

The Other Side of the Coin

2009-08-28T20:05:00.000-04:00

I'm still pondering why people and relationships cannot and should not function on the capitalistic laws of supply and demand... and I had a small (and ongoing) epiphany: the other side to viewing people as consumer products is that it of necessity predicates that we view ourselves the same way. If we see others for what they can offer us, then surely we are valued only for what we can offer them. Intellectually, I know Jesus broke down the walls to this errant way of seeing things, this impossible cycle of earned love. But in my heart I still don't believe it.

I so desperately want to earn someone's love - for them to see my "credentials" - the people that I know, those that love me, the good works that I have done and that I do; I want them to see the sacrifices that I've made... I want their pity, their admiration, their respect - their unconditional love based on what I have done.

The only flaw in this all-too pervasive approach to relating is that if love can be earned, it can also be un-earned... so we are always caught up in the tension of trying not to fall from grace, of putting our best foot forward, and of trying to repress who we really are, what we really feel so as not to lose our so arduously gained grace.

Again, the unavoidable truth is that we view others through the lenses with which we also view ourselves. The one who condemns most viciously is indeed most likely feeling the danger and imminence of condemnation. The manipulator is forever fearing and guarding against being manipulated. ... To the pure, all things are pure.

So - how to take off all the disguises and masks, and discard the intentions of the efforts? Integrity in being and doing, no hypocrisy - no walking around needing to look like someone that we're not? Save me, Jesus from this body of sin and death... because I can feel the death working in me as I try and try to do the impossible - to merit un-earnable grace.

Consumer Commodities?

2009-08-22T20:36:00.000-04:00

Today I am struck by the thought (due to the conglomeration of many different events and impressions) that there is no good excuse or situation for treating people as commodities... no matter if it is for labor as an employee, services rendered (as in a restaurant), or the even stickier and harder to define commodities of friendship and relationship.

I think one of the most disappointing feelings is realizing that what I thought was friendship, was really just a commodity to someone else... that I was appreciated for what I represented, for what I was seen to have to offer and for the future potential imagined by the consumer. No one wants to be something to someone, earning the "love" that is given. We would much rather be someone, and loved just because. Period. But then after further reflection, I realized that I am guilty of the same... to the motocar drivers, to the waitress at the restaurant, ... to people who work in the office, and even at certain times to friends. God has a great method for revealing the beam in my eye as I glimpse the speck in my brother's.

When we see people for what they can give us, for what we can get from the relationship, or even more insidious, for what we think they "owe" us because of what we have done for them, they become less than people to us, turning into something for us to consume. It is the principle that slavery and sweat shops are based on. The excuse for rudeness and theft. It is how the child sex trade prospers and what movie stars are made of.

I am convinced that Jesus never once saw a person as a thing that could serve him in any way, but saw each individual as just that... a unique and invaluable person an irreplaceable rendering of the image of His Father. How did Jesus view people as people all day, every day? Even those who did him an injustice? I'm not sure, but I would indeed like to grow in that kind of perspective and love.

And then after this thought today, there was the small and terrible question that followed: Do I view God as a commodity? Eeek. Am I truly in love with Jesus and loving him, or am I merely in love with the thought of being in love with him... prostituting what he's given me to others for my own personal gain and benefit. How amazing is His grace truly, that would save a wretch like me.