Grace-period

Watching Doctor Who, particularly his 11th regeneration, viewers notice a pattern beginning with the crack in the wall of little Amelia Pond's bedroom. She prays for help because she knows something is wrong. "Dear Santa, Thank you for the dolls and pencils and fish. It’s Easter now, so I hope I didn’t wake you. But honest, it is an emergency. There’s a crack in my wall. Aunt Sharon says it’s just an ordinary crack but I know it’s not. Because at night there’s voices. So please, please could you send someone to fix it. Or a policeman… or…  Thank you Santa." Of course, this isn't the last time we will see the crack because it is actually a crack in time and space caused by two points that shouldn't exist in the same plane. Yep. Easy to understand, right?  I mean, how often through our lives do we run our fingers over the same crack and tell ourselves this isn't the way life is supposed to be.  Two worlds intersecting...heaven and earth colliding...the crack tel...

 I haven't written here for a long time. Well, over a year, despite me telling myself that I would. Life sometimes gets in the way, and writing for school had filled this hole.  Epiphany is the day that I celebrate as my baptism anniversary. When asked what my favorite holiday is, I always struggle to come up with an adequate answer because I fear that people won't understand, but this is it.  Epiphany is a day that I look forward to every year. And it isn't just for my baptism but also because it is the day that the Church celebrates the wise, learned men finding the babe they sought to honor-the Christ child. The Epiphany is also known as Theophany, the manifestation of God  When I awaken every January 6th, I seek to "see" God.  This January 6th, I woke from my night shift sleep to a riot happening at the Capitol. At first, I had to double check the channel of the TV at the diner. This couldn't be real, could it?  Not on THIS day.  But yes, of course...

Christmas is most tangible    for me at night with a blue black sky sprinkled with stars and a chill in the air that causes me to snuggle into my coat or, better yet, closer to someone I love.  Maybe it is because my mother would drive us around to look at Christmas lights in the old Vega with a Christmas 8 track playing while me would lay in the back watching stars pass. Maybe it’s because I would walk to the local church for midnight mass when I sung in the choir. Maybe it is just the nativity is set at night.  Many faiths celebrate light at this time of year. The druids, pagans, and those who worship the old gods celebrate the winter solstice, the shortest day which is followed by progressively longer daylight. Many of Jewish heritage celebrate Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights. Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus, also called the Light if the world. People greet the sun in nature while Christmas lights and menorah candles are lit to celebrate.  ...

I have spent a lot of time comparing myself to others.  When I was in first grade, one girl was given permission to read chapter books like Nancy Drew.  She got a lot of attention since she was considered gifted. I didn't care about the attention, but I wanted to read the special books, too.  I am not sure if I was simply competitive or if I was jealous, but I worked and read until I could also be given that privilege. Comparison can help us do well and learn to choose what is better. It can be a hindrance as well. I was put into a special reading group when I was in 3rd grade. The kids in this class needed extra help.  I was confused.  We had moved to this new school during 2nd grade, and it had been a challenging transition.  Mom had a new boyfriend.  We moved from our city home to an apartment complex where we had to ride a bus.  We had to make new friends. I thought I was a good reader, but since they put me in this new class, maybe I wasn...

This adventure, following Jesus, can be strange-often exhilarating, but sometimes intimidating. Still, there isn't anywhere else I would rather be. If there were no life with Him, there would be no life. Yeah, our relationship can seem complicated, but that often is a reflection of me. My heart is full of fears,  unwillingness, pride, and limits. Create in me a new heart, Lord.  I wish that this weren't the case, but it is (again and again).  People are funny, thinking that Christians believe they are different than others, better than others. I wish. I am so acutely aware of my shortcomings, but that leads me to being aware of how good, how faithful, and how gracious God is. Remember me when you are in Your kingdom. In odd ways, God reminds me that He is with me and that He cares for me. It could be a weird day full of potential coincidences-which might be supernatural, or it could be encouraging friends praying for me. No matter how it happens, I am certain wh...

If Jesus and I updated our relationship status on Facebook, our relationship status would have to be "It's Complicated." When friends struggle with their significant others, they sometimes change their relationship status, maybe to annoy the other or send an indirect message, that they are on shaky ground. I wouldn't say Jesus and I are struggling in that way, but something is going on. It's been a rough year with lots of change and losses. It has been dark and disorienting at times. There were times that a voice whispered that "you have the chance to choose-life or death right here" and somehow I found the courage to choose life, to accept help, to pursue treatment. But there has been an unexpected cost for me due to this process and this bad year. I am not the same person that I was before.  Each experience chipped something away...a sense of self, an understanding of purpose, personal security, pride, a level of independence. I want to believe t...

Depression sucks. Literally. It sucks the life out of the individual (sometimes literally). It sucks joy from a sunny day spent with friends. It sucks the energy to put on makeup or even wash your hair. It sucks the desire to achieve goals, or make goal, or even consider that there is anything one wants to do. It sucks you away from people who love you and who you love, creating a cocoon of depression that reinforces the depression. It sucks satisfaction from work and even fosters a hostility because the lack of energy and desire makes work, and coworkers, overwhelming. It sucks curiosity and courage leaving only emptiness and    apathy. The suction is painful, not because of the losses but because of the seeming endlessness. It snowballs. It is circular. It is cumulative. It. Sucks. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.    John 10:10 NIV I don’t believe God intended us to be depressed...

When an incision is made into the body, even for happy occasions such as birthing a baby, there is muscle stretching.  Connective tissues are torn.  There is bleeding.  The surgeon tries to modify the damage-sutures and cautery. Later he closes the patient's incision and often glues the skin closed. The patient often requires special care for weeks-not too much lifting, limted exercise, pain medication, watch for infections, make sure the wound edges remain well approximated, good nutrition with protein to rebuild muscle. When my soul is torn into, why do I expect it to be over? Or perhaps, why do I expect that I should just get over it? This year has been a really, really hard year. Sometimes I can wear the same person I did last year.  Other days the mood and energy last year's person requires is too overwhelming.  Sure, I pretend pretty well at work-where I can be a functional individual without feeling the authentic weight that my spirit has put on. S...

It is so odd- The tension between feeling and believing. Take every thought captive... But it seems the feelings take hostages first. I want to believe; Help me in my unbelief. I want to get well; Help me to stand and walk. The darkness is real Although it’s only power  is to infiltrate and lie. The Light can dispel this darkness- Will dispel it-  but perhaps not for me? Definitely for you. I know so many people Infected with sickness of this dark. The hissed lies take root and sprout. The confusion swirls and twists what was once known into: “Did He really say...” “Did He really mean...” Old lies. Old voices. Old darkness. Comes to revisit and stay a while. You can leave now darkness, We are not old friends, no matter what the tune.

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee  from your presence? If I go up to the heavens,   you are there if I make my bed  in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn,  if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand   will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark  to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. Psalm 139:7-12   Life has been overwhelming lately. Depression has been heavy. I have struggled with feeling less than enough, competent, worthy...etc. My prayers seem empty. I feel alone and unworthy of His attention or love. But I am not alone. I am pursued. Seemingly normal events-like coffee with a friend-have become encounters with the Divine. We started talking about recovery and children but then gingerly touched on spiritual things. We...

Jesus, Lord of my life... How are you my Lord and I am a mess? I want to follow you so much that it twists my insides in the longing , But my outsides remain frustrated, short tempered, and accused. Lord of all creation... You have power and authority over all things,  But you have not brought this struggling soul into full submission.  LORD... You are the I AM,  But I am in need, of nothing as much as your power.  These defects, in response and in personality, strangle me, Leeching the now and even the yet to be from me.  They steal my hope and snatch the meager dreams that I dare.  I am without shelter or care in this long night. The full bodied moon mocks me as it dances playfully with sheer clouds. I am alone. I am broken, and I am trapped within my brokenness.  Change me. CHANGE ME.  Lord, I beg. LORD, I beg. But I know I am not worth your glance, your pause.  I am inconsequential...

I like to belly laugh but dislike soul shaken sobs I raise my face to the wind but turn away from the sun I believe better is possible but know worst is probable I desire to respond in faith but tend to react in fear I follow after one but travel with the many I am here and I am no where These threads between now and then and yet...bind me to unchanging Unchanging internally but with two natures Solid resignation with sprinkle of hope Mid night blue drapes and a spattering of crystal diamonds Always the same but never steady

Christmas season is here.  Families are going into closets for decorations, tidying up for visitors, making preparations for parties. But that doesn't mean that their lives stop.  Daily life continues and messes will be made.  When the visitors come and the parties happen, there may be a place that the host would rather their guests not see, or at least not look closely.  It could be dust on a shelf that was missed or the children's room or the garage.  It could be a room named "the junk room" or sometimes called a craft room where odds and ends are tucked away, or piled. We all have some piles somewhere. That is what I woke up praying about today. Father, I need you.  I need your help.  My life piles around me-books to be read and books read but not returned to their shelf, clothing to wash and clothing washed but not slipped into drawers, school work to complete and school work to put those finishing touches on so it can be sent off for grading....

My heart is full of burden.  My spirit is heavy.  My eyes well with tears.  My brain turns with ideas and regrets and plans but does not know rest.  My bones ache as I move through the days with this weight.  Of my world.  Of the world?  I am tired but cannot sleep. Until the morning when I lie there pondering how the day might unfold poorly, adding to the weight. Depression is not unfamiliar to me.  If it were simply discontentment with the way my world is, I would divorce the husband, move to another town, ride a scooter, speak a different language.  Whatever it would take to find joy.  But it isn't my external world.  It is the internal world.  Despite having a dear man who tries to love me, despite a job that I enjoy more often than not, despite a faith in a God who holds me close, despite all sorts of goodness and purpose in my life, this internal burden nags and holds me back. Much of the time it is manageable. ...

I should have known what the message would be. I have been studying Colossians as the current sermon series has been camped out in the 3rd chapter. I knew what was left, but I forgot. And I went to the church gathering anyway. “Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them.”       Colossians 3:18-19 There goes the “S” word again. It isn’t as scary as it once was. I love my husband. But that doesn’t mean it is easy. Really, the fact that there was so much time spent on defining submission annoyed me. It seems simple: if a husband loves his wife like Christ loves the Church, it is easy for a wife to submit. There would be lots more sex and home cooked meals. It seems so straightforward: husbands need to love wives better.  Simple, perhaps, but yet there is sin, and struggle, and fear. We both have needs and desires that we fight to meet, sometimes even fighting against each...

A series that I did in the past was Armchair QB-Monday morning meditations, sometimes critiques unfortunately, on the pastor’s sermon.  For those that became critiques, I feel quite ashamed. As a speaker, we merely ask to be God’s mouthpiece to share the truth that the Holy Spirit desires someone hear.  Ultimately, it is God who must show up and even show off at times. When God shows off, I can’t help but smile widely. Sunday morning He was showing off.  I have been meditating on God’s holiness lately and trying to sort out what my response has been, and what it should be. While I haven’t been to Hope lately, and this sounds quite presumptuous, God met me there. Holiness was in the fellowship, in the worship, in the message. Perhaps it is always there, but I finally had eyes to see it and ears to hear it.  Hope still sung off key and off tempo, but the melody rose to affirm His otherness and our humility. On that frigid January morning, friends and strangers...

Today is the feast of the Epiphany. One of my favorite holidays. Traditionally it is celebrates when the three kings found the baby Jesus. For me, it is about the treasure we all may find at the end of the search.  “ You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13 NIV The treasure I thought I had found in grace. Perhaps I was short sighted. Maybe I simply was so taken aback by grace that I didn’t need, or want, to look further. While swimming in God’s lavish grace has been delightful, lately something is different. I still live in this Grace-period, breathing only because of His grace & mercy, but there is more now. In this space of His silence, I find it filled with God’s holiness which seems to judge my reliance on grace, at least as I perceived it.  My reliance on grace brought on a cozy familiarity that seemed to remove the holiness, the otherness, of God for me. It isn’t that God wasn’t God, but the focus on grace dr...

I have been thinking a lot about holiness lately, as I have been reading about the early fathers and doctors of the Church.  When Teresa of Avila encouraged her sisters to be “holy,” I think of those women -pious and good. Everything they did was directed by virtues to please God. Holy seems kind of like an abstract concept though. When I try to imagine “holy,” I see gem colored frescoes and gold leaf, I smell incense, I hear tenors singing “ahhhhhhhh,” I feel awe and feel my littleness, but none of these things really speaks to holy. It isn’t just a behavior or a sensual experience. It is being other.  The word “qadosh” (holy) means something that is “other” (set apart) - the exact opposite of the something that is common. It is a state of being different and unique. So God is other because there is none like Him. We are all creation while He is the Creator. He is unique and other while we would be common. This is where my questions start showing up: If, as it sa...

I dreamt I was dying the other night. I had been to a sort of rally listening to various candidates, political and religious, share their visions for how they could change the world when I realized it was all empty rhetoric. Without any effort or thought, I walked away into the dark night.  The darkness seemed to engulf me. I knew where I was so I wasn’t exactly afraid, but I was also aware that something was happening. The street were dimly lit and lined with darkly painted buildings with windows that were also painted like old factories. To my left, something caught my eye. At first my mind tried to deny it, but then it registered as a shadow figure. I picked up my pace trying to look casual as fear rose.  I knew the figure was following me. My pace began to quicken. A light shone on a strip of stores. As I leapt through the automatic door of one, I found myself bathed in the bright light of a sporting goods store. When I tumbled across the threshold, ...