20 years!

liam and i celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary today. we're headed to a lovely island coastal town for the weekend and so looking forward to getting away together. happy, happy, happy!

breaking through to certainty

i have so many thoughts and ideas to write on, but so little time to do so - so today i will leave you with the conclusion of bonhoeffer's life together. i am so amazed that this whole book seems to have made so little difference in the modern church. i think it should be mandatory reading for anyone who uses the word community. i really could highlight 100 different things, but this one has so much to do with recovery and the 12 steps that i thought it needs to be here:

In confession a man breaks through to certainty. Why is it that it is often easier for us to confess our sins to God than to a brother? God is holy and sinless, He is a just judge of evil and the enemy of all disobedience. But a brother is sinful as we are. He knows from his own experience the dark night of secret sin. Why should we not find it easier to go to a brother than to the holy God? But if we do, we must ask ourselves whether we have no often been deceiving ourselves with our confession of sin to God, whether we have not rather been confessing our sins to ourselves and also granting ourselves absolution. And it is the reason perhaps for our countless relapses and the feebleness of our Christian obedience to be found precisely in the face that we are living on self-forgiveness and not a real forgiveness? Self-forgiveness can never lead to a breach with sin; this can be accomplished only by the judging and pardoning Word of God itself.

it's the part on relapses that just jumped off the page at me... lots to ponder. i can't recommend this book more highly to those in recovery or longing for community. it's only about 230 pages, but it's kicked my butt through the whole thing.

have a great day!

yippee!

at least 4 humpbacks, and at least another 3 finbacks - no breaches, but an amazing day with three different humpback flags (tail waves) and incredible beauty. i had a great chance to talk to the captain of the boat and tell him of my 30 years of dreaming and we stayed out for four hours. it was a dream come true.

lots more pictures posted in my facebook and my other blog. if you prayed, thank you!

i'm going whale watching tomorrow!

tomorrow liam and i get to fulfill a lifetime dream i've had - we're going whale watching! liam bought the tickets for me back in the spring at a silent auction for sick kids hospital. i've held on to them with trembling hands until the late season because now is the beginning of the best time to see them. we've spoken to the tour operators and they told us that they've spotted them all summer, but the babies and pods love the late season and if you can hang on until fall they're a bit more dramatic and the humpbacks return. we're also beginning the celebration of our 20 years of marriage that happens on the 28th and we'll be celebrating in bar harbor.

they've been spotting minkies, fin whales and even the rare humpback. i was disappointed to find out that the right whales are usually only visible in open water and not in the bay where we'll be tomorrow. so maybe next year we'll start off the island and head out into the deep.

many of you will remember this post of pigs, cows and whales and the older global girl meme where i stated that it was one of my top three things i wanted to do in my life.

i have been in love with whales since i was holding bake sales with my friends for greenpeace to "save the whales" - that was 1978. i never dreamed growing up in land-locked wisconsin that one day i'd live on the bay of fundy, the summer birthing area for all of these species. they are gentle and beautiful and are threatened by the development that is taking place out here. this is a dream come true.

if you are a praying type, please pray for a breaching humpback and lobtailing and slapping. i also really want to be warm enough. some of you know that i have a problem with debilitating chills. this would be a really bad time for that. i'm layering like crazy and praying that fundy fog stays far away!! will post any pictures we're able to get.

it's YOU lydia!

gasp - out loud - stunned, complete revelation - my friend lydia just left this comment on how is jesus like bread and another penny dropped:

What came to my mind as I read your ponderings about bread - you are comparing something tangible with something intangible: a slice of buttered bread which we can see, feel and taste with our physical bodies/and Jesus who we can only experience on a spiritual level. Your question "Why did God pick these two addictive elements (bread and wine) to remember Him?" jumped right off the page at me and made me wonder if maybe it is actually the other way around - we become addicted to these substances BECAUSE they symbolize God to us and we are desperate in our need for Him.

i am so thrilled to have you in my life lydia - face to face - you are a deep, deep well! i LOVE the way your mind thinks!

dangerous women

when the comments weren't working the other day i panicked and wanted some feedback on what i had written. i sent off two emails, one to dan brennan of faith dance, who is writing on male/female friendships and intimacy and one to one of my new friends here in my community - lydia. she and i are connecting on many different levels. this was her response (that i post here with full permission hoping that it helps others who are connecting too with these thoughts):

Thank you so much for saying you feel safe trusting your inner person with me. Those are words that mean the world to me and I will do all I can to see that trust is not broken. I wish I had some answers for you but I think this goes deeper than either of us and I think it has more to do with the society we were raised in and the whole masculine/feminine thing than it does with you (or me) personally.

I don't think that you are alone in those feelings. I think every one of us as women are battling with those same feelings in ourselves - those of us who are in touch with our feelings and are honest enough to admit them even to ourselves. And if we have been unfaithful to our true self in any way (and there is not a woman alive who has not been untrue to herself in one way or another) we find it next to impossible to ever fully trust ourselves again.

First I think we have to FULLY forgive ourselves for surviving this patriarchal world the only way we knew how, congratulate ourselves for growing enough to choose a healthier path for ourselves and then reassure ourselves that we will never HATE ourselves again - no matter what mistakes we make along the way.

Remember that every second you spend torturing yourself with these fears and concerns is time that robs you of being fully present to the beautiful life you have now and the beautiful people you have in it. LOVE YOURSELF and even love those terrible mistakes that fill you with shame now. It was all a part of finding the right path for you. And the burden of guilt rests with all of us for creating the society we live in. All we can do now is forgive ourselves, love ourselves, and do our best to make a better world for those following in our footsteps.

an email friend sent me this poem she wrote:

My Protector.

A source of external strength.
My source of internal strife.
She keeps me safe.
She threatens my life.

This physical weight.
This emotional baggage. Ties me to this earth.
Ties me to my life.
Keeps me safe.

From what, you say?
From me, I say.

The me, that given to self-discovery and indulgence
may lead me down a path I don’t want to go down.
That leads to a life of exhilaration, passion, love.

A place I long to be.
A place I cannot go.

Are we all two in one?
Does everyone need this protection like I do?
If so. Why don't they wear theirs like I do?
Where do they hide?

Me. I sink down in safety.
Warmth and safety.
Like wrapping up in a down-filled comforter.
Layers of soft, warm feathers (flesh).
Layers that cushion the blows of all their hurtful words...all my possible actions.

How do I let her go?
How do I expose myself?
How do I turn loose of my Protector?

Why do I need a Protector?
Who threatens my life?
I threaten my life.
I created my Protector in childhood.

I had no other constant by my side.
You say I did have a constant by my side?
God was by my side?
Yes. He was and is there.
My brain knows it to be so.

Ever so often my heart catches a
glimpse of his Love.

But still my heart questions.
Seeking…answers.
Answers to questions I need not ask?
Questioning. To know.
To need to know.

What is it I need to know?

I need to know how to retire my Protector.

She's old. She’s heavy. She's tired.
She's holding me down, back.
I want to want her to go.
Lord, please help me let her go.

Lara N.

my friend anj left this in the comments:

This concern/fear/terror feeling of being dangerous is often part of the impact of sexual abuse as children for both women and men. It is as if we internalize that we are dangerous, as we, in our childish naivete and wanting to make the adult be ok, take on the responsibility for the abuse. In our heads, as adults, we know it is the responsibility of the abuser. In the heart and soul of the child inside, we call ourselves dangerous and bear the cost. That is why a man's admiring glance triggers shame.

I think a huge part of this damage done is the negative label it gives to being dangerous. Jesus was dangerous, and, I believe, as women of God we are called to be dangerous too. Of course, that means coming through seeing yourself as sexually dangerous.

dangerous. yes - that is truly it. dangerous. how i long to be dangerous in the way jesus was/is dangerous. now, how to get from "a" to "b" to "d" (as in dangerous, like jesus and these amazing women!)

i will fear no evil

how many times have i heard those words? i will fear no evil... 100's? 1,000's? it's one of the most familiar phrases from one of the most well known psalms - i will fear no evil. it plunged so deeply into my soul yesterday during worship that it made me gasp, then cry and then bite the inside of my cheek so hard as to stop the depth of emotion rising. i knew if i allowed it to it would have reduced me to a keening, weeping puddle on the floor.

long time readers of my blog will know that i am an addict and my two most difficult drugs of choice that i deal with are food and sex. in less than a month i will celebrate an abstinence of 8 years from the most debilitating of those behaviors. it has been an incredible 8 years. the growth and serenity (and sanity) i have been given because of this abstinence edges on to the miraculous.

there has also been a wall or a ceiling that i just cannot seem to break through though. i have been able to maintain a solid 30 lb., sometimes 40 lb. weight loss, during these 8 years. i can wear normal clothes and would be happy to be this size for the rest of my life - but that 10 lbs. limbo has such an extreme effect on me. for the past year (at least) i have been sitting with the emotions that well up in me because of this limbo.

at the 40 lb. place i feel so healthy, so good in my skin, so much more of who i find myself to be. the tipping point happens though when i am noticed. there is such a deep, quivering wounded place inside my soul that panics when that happens. i have only been conscious of it during the moment for about the past 3-4 months. previous to that i only realized it after the fact. during these past few months i have begun to identify the emotions while they are happening. i haven't really been capable (or haven't figured out how to be capable) enough to do anything about it, but i am at least conscious of it happening. there is a choice being made. i am not compulsive about it any more. and herein lies the rub. this is why these posts on bread have become so important to me.

i know when i am taking that first bite that i am choosing to comfort myself apart from my daily provision or allow myself to be inconsolable. the panic is so great deep within me that nothing matters except replacing those pounds that keep me invisible.

i have told hope, and talked with liam, and even shared last week at my OA group that this is my greatest fear - but i don't remember if i've ever written about it here. somewhere deep within me i am terrified, and yes, terrified is the right word, that i am going to slip sexually. not just in the hidden, private way i used to participate in my addiction, but publicly, exploding and imploding all that i love and hold dear.

i know this is so deeply rooted in who i believe myself to be that any time i begin to feel sexual, sexy or even feminine i crash. and liam and i have spoken of this candidly and it's not usually in the context of our marriage and sexual life, it seems to live outside of me/us. something is broken, something i believe to be true deep in my soul is a lie, someplace in me has been crushed and wounded and shamed so deeply that i am unable to believe anything else to be true.

somehow i have convinced myself that i am like a dog in heat - that any offer i am given will be acted upon and i will wreck everything. i know in my head that this is probably highly unlikely, but in the terrified place in my soul i doubt the truth with all of my being.

this is fine when i am house mom and only in community when it's safe, but life is opening up before me now and the level of terror i feel is palpable. i have sat with these emotions and the reassurances of my best friends and husband that i am not this woman for months now but the fear still causes me to zip on that parka of fat and project a person to the world who is unnoticeable and safe.

the slightest comment, even from a stranger can send me into a tailspin. crossing the border on friday i was just sitting in the volvo alone, reading bonhoeffer and minding my own business and a 60 year old man was crossing in the opposite direction on the bridge. i hear "hello gorgeous" and look up to see he is talking to me. it was sweet and put a smile on my face, but in the back recesses of my mind it started to erode me again. maybe i should just return to that no-makeup, disheveled sweatpants wearing woman i used to be so that i can navigate society as invisibly as possible. maybe doing my hair, wearing bright colors and looking my best is me somehow seeking attention that is wrong.

how can so many of my beautiful female friends looks so sexy, wonderful and confident all of the time and not be riddled with insecurity, shame and confusion like i am? i leave the house feeling so good about myself now and then bam, someone says something like this and i am so confused.

this community is also a wonderful place of real friendship. interaction with my peers and deep conversations abound, many of them with men, or couples and it fills something deep within me. i love my new friends, and i am loved within this community. people think big thoughts here and we have some incredible times of connection. it's so much of what i have ever wanted - but it terrifies me. i have never had true male friendships before like i have here. the church culture i was raised with forbid male/female friendships and i was told repeatedly that they were dangerous.

i was dangerous. the messages that i have been programmed with through ugly theology, abuse and misogyny have rendered me incapable of trusting myself in community. i am so broken. and bread has been my comfort. that 5 lbs. of safety somehow has made me more able to engage. but i know soon 5 lbs. won't be enough. no bread will be enough. this will escalate and my serenity and abstinence will have been lost if i don't connect these dots.

one dot was connected for me during worship yesterday. we sang an unfamiliar song and those are always good for me to engage me in new thought as i read the lyrics. one of the lines was so familiar - but fresh and new all the same. (living and active possibly???) i will fear no evil. i am not a dog in heat. i have and will be able to continue to say no to things that are not good for me. fearing some kind of affair or escapade is not helpful to my serenity. i will fear no evil. god is with me - now - and will be with me if and when some very unlikely offer was ever made that my mind has me exploding my life with. i will fear no evil. living a life not manipulated by fear is where i want to be. just for today i will fear no evil.

bread for the world

more thoughts on bread...

Hulling My Heart...Making Room for a Dream

Today in an early morning dream I was addressed by a voice. It asked, "What are you doing?" and I answered, "I am hulling my heart."

The voice asked, "Why?" and I answered, "I have need of a hulled heart."

I awoke, as I have so often this year, knowing that in my sleep I was at work on my life, convinced that if I dug in its soil long enough, deep enough, it would yield me a liberating truth. Is that truth in the metaphor 'hulled heart'?

I think only of pulling off the green leaves of strawberries that the fruit may be eaten. But hulling means more than that. We strip corn and peas of husks and pods to reach the inner fruit. What are the hard, protective casings around my heart that must be stripped away to reach the hidden grain? What must I give up to lie all bare and exposed like peas in a pod or corn on a cob? What are the wrappings that keep the essence of my life from becoming bread for the world?

Elizabeth O'Connor

via

it's official

well, minus the financial transactions liam and i are officially enrolled to begin our masters degrees as of today. it hardly seems real. i have been up to my eyeballs in amazon searches, used books and tons of reading. we're doing the module program here, even though we're local it is the best alternative for our family and liam's work. lots of reading and writing on our own and the first of the two weeks intensives in october. i'll be blogging this from my 'named' blog instead of here, but i just wanted to explain in case things drop off severely due to the fact that i should (even now) have my face firmly planted in a book (non-fiction, ugh) :)

trading my inheritance for a bowl of stew

my friend here not knowing anything about the place i am in writing on this blog lent me a book yesterday to read a chapter on sabbath & food - she knows of my struggle, but did not know her timing was so perfect. it's called The Rest of God: Restoring Your Soul by Restoring Sabbath by Mark Buchanan and in chapter eleven, "Feast - Stopping to Taste the Kingdom" he makes some profound points about our relationship to food as Christ followers.

he begins by telling a story about watching girls on a ride called "the mad hatter", three enjoying it and one turning greener and more ill with every go-round. she eventually was sick. he writes:

"That happened a long time ago, but I've never forgotten it. I wish I could. It's become a kind of metaphor for me, that Whirligig, that Mad Hatter. It's become a symbol of the power of amusement to make us sick. Pleasure can be like that: a thing that spins you round and round, faster and faster. Some people enjoy it immensely, at least for short bursts.

They lean into it.

Others aren't doing so well.

Of all the ways our culture spins us dizzy, its obsession with food is one of the most glaring."

he then quotes Dorothy Bass, "Without a fast, It's hard to recognize a feast."

it is his contention that the sabbath was made for feasting, and because we feast continually in our culture we are rarely able to celebrate the sabbath because we are so stuffed all of the time that we are never truly hungry. he then unpacks about 4-5 stories about food and people, some of them biblical. the conclusion he draws from the story about the jesus and the women at the well and his solution to this is off for me. i was really tracking with him up to that point, but i don't believe that when jesus tells the disciples after his interaction at the well that 'he has food they know nothing of and it's to do the work of his father' that work is the solution to over-eating. i have seen work abused and traded for eating, even the good work of god - my own husband stands as evidence for this, and i too can loose myself in the work of god much to the abandonment of the present i am called to.

but it did broaden the breadth of my thinking on this. buchanan ends each chapter with a sabbath litury and in this one he uses the story of esau and jacob and what he wrote didn't pull at me as much as just thinking about that story in the context of my own story. what am i trading for my inheritance? how is food becoming more important to me than what is truly precious? how can being hungry and doing without teach me more than being full and stuffed to the gills? i know that i have "misplaced hunger" and an "appetite gone awry" - so today i am thinking about my "mess of pottage" and what i'm trading it for.

how is jesus like bread?

it has been far too long since i have sat here with time, without interruption and with the level of emotion and depth of thought i have here today. i have put so much into this for the past couple of weeks. like i said in the posts below, this just will not let me go. i know there is a key here that will unlock something for me that i have yet to understand.

as a compulsive overeater i have found/find comfort, safety, friendship, solace, energy, consolation and satisfaction in food. it is a sick, twisted relationship that is broken at it's most basic level. food for me has been used to replace or fill those broken things in me and my world that little else could seem to come close to. and no other food for me more than bread. i have given up chocolate for almost 8 years now, and added sugar for probably about 5, but a life without bread is unimaginable for me. it's not about the carbs (well, not only about the carbs) or the affect this has on my physical body because there is something deeply emotional about this that i just can't seem to figure out how this all weaves together.

comparing jesus, not communion, the lords supper or the eucharist to bread just pulled at me like little else. i knew that there was a deeper truth here that i wasn't understanding. i'm not sure i do even yet, but i'm praying that as i type things become more real and i am given a clearer understanding of why this is so 'elemental' for me.

to those who commented and posted, thank you - your thoughts are precious to me, your involvement so meaningful. and it has helped me think in ways and from perspectives i had not considered. i have always stumbled through my thoughts on 'communion' because it consists of two substances that my addictive nature is wary of. bread and wine. i have never been an active alcoholic, but know that if given the chance to make that choice i would abuse alcohol in the same way i can abuse food. why then did god pick these two addictive elements to remember him?

the nature of the communion elements - bread and wine - is truly transformational - such simple, basic ingredients - grain and grapes - squished, ground and pulverized into something they were not before - reduced to their most primitive state and then such small efforts and time turn them miraculously into something they were not before. and such lovely things. a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thou... is this not what the best of life is made of?

erin brought up the idea of the bread coming from the grain being ground - i began to think that bread cannot be bread without violence and transformation. the mortar and pestle crushing, the muscles kneading, the deep heat of the oven baking - you can smell it, can't you? is there a better smell in the world? maybe the top of a baby's head, but little else can compare. your mouth begins to water. your stomach begins to growl. butter, homemade jam or peanut butter? what can compare?

how is jesus like bread? how can i find such mouth-watering satisfaction in the person of christ? i have been pondering this for days. i wrote above "comfort, safety, friendship, solace, energy, consolation and satisfaction in food jesus." that is true in my head, but in my heart i know it to be different. i would rather turn to a buttered piece of bread in an emotional crisis than i would to turn to prayer. i live this out. if prayer, regular prayer, not the sublime moments i have from time to time, filled me like this i wouldn't be where i am. how do i make the true, real transition from that first bite to finding these things truly in jesus?

being empty physically is terrifying for me sometimes. the absence of physical form of jesus being like bread just doesn't seem to fill the void like chewing bread does. the picture hope used of using wonder bread to fill the cracks in our selves was so powerful for me. it was so visual. i loathe wonder bread - sliced white processed bread isn't ever what i'm looking for - i want the loaf, the kind you have to saw through - that's the real thing that does it for me - but i know most of my childhood was patched up with wonder bread. but the missing link memory isn't there yet.

i made the emotional connection to many of the binge foods i have struggled with in the past - understanding why a certain food is so powerful helps me so much. raw cookie dough was an instant link to my maternal grandmother. when she came to visit things at home were good - my parents were attentive, grandma was so comforting - i associated that feeling with that gross, disgusting binge food. i ate more raw eggs and butter in a month than should ever be consumed in a lifetime. when i understood this i was able to set it aside. i can have those wonderful memories and understand them now without needing the food to make me feel. i can't seem to find that link with bread yet.

my mom didn't make bread, i don't think i can associate it with anything yet, but i know it's there - and i know that when i am able to understand it more fully it will have less power over me. so how is jesus like bread?

tying communion into this complicates it for me - i know that is a huge part, but i think the metaphor is bigger than just communion. he never said "i am the wine of life" - but he did say, apart from communion:

John 6:48-51 - "I am the Bread of Life. Your ancestors ate the manna bread in the desert and died. But now here is Bread that truly comes down out of heaven. Anyone eating this Bread will not die, ever. I am the Bread-living Bread!-who came down out of heaven. Anyone who eats this Bread will live-and forever! The Bread that I present to the world so that it can eat and live is myself, this flesh-and-blood self."

i think that this plays into some bad theology that i need to re-form. the "get out of jail free" kind of christianity i was raised with concerned itself only with conversion and the glory of heaven one day - and the in-between real life and kingdom were non-existent. our real lives didn't start until heaven. we were just putting in time and making more converts, just dying to have that rapture and get on with it already. i now believe that this 'live-and forever!' means NOW, HERE AND NOW.

so how is this 'bread of life' giving me life today? how can it satisfy me at the most basic of times when i am feeling exposed or unsafe? it just doesn't seem to comfort me like a mouthful of buttered bread. (just being completely honest here). dang. i had hoped that by typing it would all magically fall into place. i still don't get it - it still feels just a tad beyond the reach of my fingers - but i'm sitting in the tension of not knowing. of not fully understanding yet.

erin also mentioned that "'Aysh' is the Arabic word for both bread and life." and patchouli reminded me that "Christ as bread--it reminds me of manna in the desert. Pure, daily, just right to nourish us--and we have taken that and turned it into "Wonder Bread" filling, but without the nourishment. I want manna from Heaven."

manna is part of this too - and it is LIFE - and it is trans-cultural. provision is there if i take it, i know. i can be full without being stuffed, but somehow it just doesn't seem to translate yet. manna for the day. too much taken gets moldy the next day. just for today... enough.

jesus goes on to say:

John 6:53-58 "But Jesus didn't give an inch. "Only insofar as you eat and drink flesh and blood, the flesh and blood of the Son of Man, do you have life within you. The one who brings a hearty appetite to this eating and drinking has eternal life and will be fit and ready for the Final Day. My flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. By eating my flesh and drinking my blood you enter into me and I into you. In the same way that the fully alive Father sent me here and I live because of him, so the one who makes a meal of me lives because of me. This is the Bread from heaven. Your ancestors ate bread and later died. Whoever eats this Bread will live always."

a hearty appetite - who more than the alcoholic and compulsive overeater has this hearty appetite? i know it is meant to be filled and satiated with far more than our drugs of our choice though. i know this is settling for bait instead of a feast. i'm tired of bait. i loathe the counterfeit. i long for the "meal of christ" he speaks of here. i just can't seem to truly find it's equal in this temporary place in between.

the satisfaction and completion i long for hasn't yet been found in communion with christ. all that is within me wants it to be true, but i can't honestly say that i'm there yet. and i feel so inadequate - why? am i fundamentally discontent? insatiable? i truly do not know. i pray it is just that my understanding is lacking. that the penny hasn't dropped yet. that what seems just out of my reach will one day be grasped. until then i will be sitting with this, living in the tension and begging for god to make this real and understandable to me.

my not-yet-met friend steve tells of a sacred communion time here (thank you steve, this still makes me tear up when i think about it): Thoughts on Commuion, Jesus as Bread

discuss amongst yourselves - part deux

the post i was hoping to do today will have to wait as i have been asked to make an emergency run to "the big city" airport to pick up a couple who didn't make their connector flight yesterday. this "how is jesus like bread" thing is holding me tight and will not let go.

i was honored yesterday to be a part of our communion service at church, impromtu as the woman who bakes the bread got her wires crossed and showed up with the lovely homemade loaves yesterday instead of next week. i was able to stand in front of the congreation and offer the body of christ broken for you to each who came forward. this is unfolding so beautifully for me.

i want to share some things left in the comments to spur on more thoughts (please participate - any and all thoughts, even weird or negative ones will help me here) on this subject. i know this is a lot bigger for me than just communion - and it's working it's way into so many areas of my life - so even the most random thought might be a missing link in this process, so please (PLEASE) comment away.

here's what sarah louise had to say:

I remember in college being at a party and a guy was dressed up and his costume was saying how Christians are vampires because they drink Jesus' blood and eat his flesh. I will never forget that, til the day I die.

When I was Catholic (for about a year) I couldn't get past that the bread "really" was Jesus. I prefer the Presbyterian view that it's "in memory of Him" but that it brings us closer in communion with Him.

and brother tadhg:

Interestingly, in current Jewish passover feasts, bread is broken in three and the second portion is hidden until a ransom is paid or it is discovered by the least in the family - which for believers symbolises the 2nd person of the trinity once hidden and now revealed.

and erin writes:

-bread seems to be one food that has been common in all cultures. Ever present. Nourishing. Sustaining.
-thinking of bread broken, I tend to think of the first breaking: of wheat broken to make flour. Makes me think of what it may have been like for Jesus to take human form.
-this may be stretching things, but I think of Jesus as Whole Wheat or a really dark Rye. Broken, but not lesser. We want a sliced White Bread Jesus. Easy to digest, flavourless really, but convenient.

thanks each of you who participated, this has helped me a lot - and i won't be able to really post on this until at least wednesday, probably thursday - so i've got a long trip in the car today, and days to keep thinking about it - so please add your thoughts!

discuss amongst yourselves

remember coffee talk with linda richman on snl? mike myers in drag with those buttuh-like nails all verklempt over bah-bra?

well, i am pondering a question in my daily ready "praying with jesus" (eugene peterson) and i can't get it out of my head - so i want your take on this please. i know it's tied into my eating and holds keys that i can't wrap my head around. i'd love to hear your thoughts as i put my own together on this. i'll give you a topic...

how is jesus like bread? discuss amongst yourselves...

give me a call 555-4444, we'll talk, no big whoop.

where to start?

it's been so long i can't even imagine where to start, so i'm not going to get tied up in "catching you up" - that kind of stuff will filter in i think - and if there's anything you're wondering about leave a comment and i'll post on that.

i just know it's been far too long since i've put fingers to keys here and i don't want that to go away.

probably a few random posts today in and amongst tying up loose ends on some major projects i've been working on.

miss you all!

i'm not ignoring you...

Finally I have so much to write about and no time to write. I owe emails and have so many blog post ideas in my head but life has gotten so busy. I can't wait for school to start next week - I hate that the week before my kids go back is filled up with a major project deadline that is overwhelming me at the moment.

I also hate that we have lost our cool, east coast weather and inherited the ugly mid-west humidity we have avoided for most of August. All my kids want to do is swim and have friends over and I don't have time/energy to do either. I know that I have enough time to do what needs to be done - it's just that the thoughts linger in the back of my mind that I am forgetting something...

Oh well - all I really wanted to say is that I'm not ignoring you if I owe you an email, I just want to give it more time than I have right now. Sorry for the whinging, I promise it will be over soon!

i am officially writing

i have officially begun writing the story that has been floating in my head for the past 3-4 years. i've only told two people about it and i need to pour any steam i can generate into the writing instead of the talking about it - but it feels good to have finally begun to put pen to paper (and actually it is pen to paper as it has always been moleskine and pen, not computer and typing so far). when inspiration strikes i just have to put the thoughts down on paper.

i'm really loving it. so if you pray please do so for me to keep embracing the creativity when it comes.

heat and light

i have been having a conversation with a friend via email where i used the term "more heat than light". she asked me to explain it and as i typed out my answer i thought it might make a good blog post - and because they are so few and far between lately i'll take anything i can get! :)

i used to be quite the scrapper in groups of people - eager to state my views and beliefs and argue theology left and right. i think it was one of my ways of dealing with my misbelief that i was an "extrovert" as my social discomfort was soothed by making everyone else in the room uncomfortable... sigh.

i now judge my participation in conversations by whether they are generating "heat" or "light" - if it's a debate I want no part of it any more - (i used to think that every time there was more than one view in the room it had to be a debate or an argument) - now i know that different views can be in the same room without it escalating into chaos and anger. it's been one of the best gifts emergent has given to me. not having to CORRECT everyone's theology before the end of the discussion. gosh it's tiring being the holy spirit! :p

so if people are there to argue i want no part of it - if they are there to speak and listen i'll gladly join in. i want light - not heat. does that make sense?

it's how i judge conversations with people of other faiths too (especially those of the "old time religion" i used to participate in) - i used to try to argue them away - now i'll gladly talk if there is a real conversation happening. i don't live in fear that they will pollute me or my beliefs - or that I AM THE ONLY JESUS THEY WILL EVER SEE... sigh. it's exhausting being jesus too! :)

HA!

This just appeared in my google clips and it made me laugh out loud:

"I don't need you to remind me of my age. I have a bladder to do that for me." - Stephen Fry

a crisis of confidence

these past few weeks have been difficult ones for me. coming back from vacation i was ready to engage in summer and our community and i realized that in the hub-bub of prepping for the trip and being away we had kind of fallen off the map. i have been struggling with the realization that while i love this community it is not perfect. i am a bit of an optimistic denial junkie when i come upon something/someone new. i am so afraid to admit the flaws, that some things are wrong, or identify problems for fear that by beginning to do so everything will fall to pieces around me.

i am feeling so much better since i really spent time last week pondering all of this and put the pieces of the puzzle together last weekend. i have traced back a lot of the anxiety i was feeling to the end of last november. it was a grand month for me. i got to preach my first "sermon" (although i would never really call anything i'd want/do a sermon personally), i got to attend the national youth workers convention in cincinatti and then spoke at my first women's retreat. it was a high for me on a lot of levels.

december is such a month of inconsistencies - everyone's schedule changes, families tuck in and just the chaos of the holidays brings so much change. i enjoyed december, but felt pretty lost and alone for the rest of the winter months. it was a dry winter. liam was just coming out of his deep, dark place and i think i had been holding it together up to that point and when he got stronger i was able to be weak.

going away and being with our families on the holiday was nice in it's way, but it also really emphasized how very different we are from them and how little we really have in common with those who share our blood. it's a sad realization and left us both feeling a bit of grief. coming back to this place we held such high hopes (at least i did) for re-engaging with deep people, deep thoughts and cultivating rich community. the realization that much had moved on without us left me feeling so rejected.

rejection, whether real of perceived pushes major buttons in my life. especially church rejection. while none of this "rejection" was active, it was a kind of 'benevolent neglect' and still made me panic nonetheless - when i showed up somewhere i was welcomed, but my insecurities and the psycho tapes that play in my head wind me into a wobbly vulnerable place and eventually seclusion or begrudging participation in activities that i don't fully engage in because of my shredded self confidence. i am my worst enemy.

the big ah-ha that helped me this weekend was when i realized that there is a deep theological difference that i hold from my community here. our space here is very healing. many, like us, relocate here after woundings and major life changes. for a town of 5000 and a church of less than 300 when the students are here we have had 8-10 families transplant here since we have arrived. i love it because it is a hybrid of ancient, postmodern, charismatic & evangelical thought that is truly beautiful. i have learned so much about the holy spirit, prayer and healing since i have arrived. none of it is high-pressure, emotionally driven intensity, but a beautiful, welcoming space. very different from most of what we've seen in other churches.

the ah-ha i had this past weekend lies between what i believe and what many around me practice, although they may not "preach it". it is a subtle one, and the reason i think it was so hard for me to see.

i believe that while miracles are possible and do happen there is usually far more healing in the journey and that living in the tension of the "now and the not yet" is where god meets us. i believe that talking about the journey and telling our stories in the present tense, and not just the past is vital to real community. and i can sense that makes some people really uncomfortable.

i realized that most who come here broken are ministered to and expected to be "healed" and move from the healing category to the "healed" category. i am unable to do that. i have sensed frustration on the part of some in leadership that we haven't been miracles. that we are still living in the tension. that we can't seem post our addictions and struggles in the "past" column and move on. you see one of my super-hero powers is the inability to be fake. i just can't pretend.

i have observed this community for over 20 months now and have seen too many of the "healers" lives not being lived in freedom. i see their needs, so like my own, not owned or admitted for fear of loosing status, or healing, or admitting problems so that would indicate that their "faith" might not be real enough to "claim the miracle". again, these things are never said out loud. i just think that they come from roots of past churches and old theology that hasn't been brought into the light (yet).

i realized that i have felt like a failure because of this. for months now i have shamed myself and berated myself and felt the rejection of the perceived failure to take up the "healed" mantle and move past those things for the sake of their ministry. again, it is subtle. i have seen it blatantly in other churches. from the stage at our church these words aren't spoken, and actually support for what i am choosing is given - but deep down those pentecostal roots run deep and the pressure is passive, but it is there nonetheless.

in the netherworld between sleep and wakefulness this weekend i realized that i had believed that this meant that i was going backwards. broken, more broken than before. that i was faithless and if i just believed i wouldn't struggle so. as i shook off those thoughts i realized that the WHOLE person lives in the tension. the WHOLE person knows that the journey is about the process and living the emotions we are given fully and not medicating them away, but inviting god into the process. it felt like i was given my serenity and sanity back. i haven't changed. i didn't loose something i once had. i had just given it away momentarily because of this subtle pressure.

i have it back now and know that what i believe is mine. some people might be avoiding me because they don't want to be near the tension. that's okay. i don't have to pretend anymore that i believe i am "past" anything. i think one of the shortfalls of scripture (gasp) is that no one is ever tracked "after" the miracle happens. lazarus came back from the dead, but man i'm sure at some point afterward he was pretty pissed at jesus for letting him die. blind bartameus had to get a job now. he no longer could beg - he had no skills, he had to cope with the "after-affects" of the healing - it changed everything, it didn't make it all shiny and perfect. yes, he could see, but dang, now he could see. life still goes on. the process and the tension doesn't go away.

i no longer will abide by the silent pressure - the wounded healer is who i am called to be. not living out of my pain - but admitting it if it is real, inviting god into it and healing in the process. i will be grateful for the miraculous if it is bestowed upon me - but i am no longer doubting that this is the truth i am called to live out.

crisis averted.

csi my mother

in the organization of last weekend i finally tackled a large trunk of musty, mothy paperwork that i have lugged (oh who am i kidding - liam lugged) from pillar to post on the many moves we had made. i had thought it was filled with my mother's old writing. i was wrong. it was a treasure chest. filled with bounty from my childhood, my mother's childhood and my father's childhood. pictures, letters, scrapbooks and ephemera from decades gone by. i have a huge sinus headache because of the mold and i can't bear to put everything away again. it feels like i've found pieces of myself i never knew existed.

did you know my mother went to college and dropped out in her first semester? i did not. nope. never knew it. i found that in a letter typed in a round-about by one of her high school crushes who was a math geek and at technical school pining away for her. he called her dumb for dropping out. i was shocked. i never knew. i knew she worked for the college, but i never knew she enrolled. i think i have stumbled upon a family secret.

my grandfather was a brilliant man. he held the formula (in his head) to some aluminum magic mumbo jumbo that was in high demand. he just could never seem to roll that into income. i think he was such a kind-hearted soul that people took advantage of him. i remember hearing about loosing investments and bill collectors. the shame of it all drove my grandmother into seclusion and no one ever talked about it in detail. i only remembered fragments of information overheard or talked about above me.

i wonder if she had to drop out due to financial reasons? she was so bright, excelled at everything she did. all of her friends went to college. but she was left behind. i can't imagine how disappointed she must have been. it feels like a piece to a puzzle i don't know where to put yet. i have so many questions, but don't know who to talk to about them. the secret keepers are still in full force in some bastions of my family.

i also saw the scrapbook of her first love. things were gangbusters and then nothing. zip. zilch. no information. it just evaporates. like the trail into the forest that ends at a stream. which way to go? what happened here? my mom always told us she was a virgin when she married dad. he tells me now that he doesn't think she was. i wonder if they had sex. she moved out to wisconsin shortly after the trail of the relationship died. maybe he just broke her heart. maybe she just needed a change of scenery. but it would answer so many question marks as to why she told me what she told me about men and how life can treat you. again, more questions, very few answers. i really feel like i'm reconstructing bobbie.

i could spend all my days looking over pictures, reading old letters, trying to piece the fragments of information together. she called my dad "tiger" in her letters to him. he bought her extravagant cards for every holiday. she saved them all. when did the alcohol begin to overtake their marriage? i can see the glamorous pictures from "before" - then in the beginning they start slack off, only a few snapshots here and there, not nearly as glamorous, and then hardly any from the time of the heavy drinking. i wonder if that's why there are only a very few pictures of my sister's childhood.

i know this is a gift. that there are answers here to some of the questions i have, and maybe leads to find the answers to others. i only know that looking at the pictures of my parents together, or my mom in her career clothes, riding in parades for being the "top-seller" are ties to a life gone by that fill in the gaps of my memories and brings me closer to the woman that she was. i am grateful.