slow & steady

spring has come again. not in any rush, but in gradual glowing hue of warm and wet, and light scents of new grass and buds...

not sideswiping us, but gently tickling us up the back, with light and life: making slow and steady smiles upon our faces, up-turned in the rhythm of worship to the Maker of this season. winters pass away. the cold, from hurt and pain and suffering, is held in gentle Hands, and brushed in the warm of His gentle breath. Who could imagine, Love both Bold & Kind? Yet this is our God.

lone gospel.

As with many things, just when you think something is becoming clear, you realize that there is more to the picture.
I read Bonhoeffer's Life Together, and it presses - it illumines; it is so small but makes me think so big.

to be alone:
in necessity beautiful, refreshing.
in circumstance, a discipline.

the day alone, to make rich the day together.
the day alone, to push me toward Him, to draw me into Him and
them.
the day alone to work out the plans of together.

and days together to make plans for the day alone.
the day alone is where I confront my fears and demons, and where Christ
begins His ministries to my person.

A common misinterpretation of solitude leads to a resentment for together, and
and yet, and yet ...
Not alone, for aloneness is not good.
Here with my God: Man & Love.
Day-thoughts punctuated by others, for others.
solitary gospel.
it's a good story ;)

tonight I give thanks for:

• northern lights!
• ro-tic time with R.
• chat with auntie.
• day alone.
• sweet buns.

due to be.

Admittedly sometimes doing becomes an idol for me.
You might get a sense from the title of this blog, that the ‘personal effort’ portion of faith is incredibly fundamental to my walk with Christ. After 17 years of figuring I was the epitome of what was known as 'Christian' - by nature of a generally good disposition, mostly moral living and an extra ‘t’ on my last name (a potential indicator of the faith of my ancestors), I came face to face with God, my Creator. I know this moment as a realization of my place, which thrust me to my knees - humbled by the knowledge that if we are to be identified as Christians (followers of Christ), the subsequent requirement is live likewise.
Christ gives real opportunity to follow Him. In response we have the choice – to throw off old ambitions and go after Him, to search hard, seek hard, live through the hard should we be called. There has been a lot of throwing off in the past 6 years – a lot of following Him to who knows where, and learning to trust when things honestly look bleak. For the majority of my Christian walk, through the rough we’ve gone. Yet that, the struggle, began to define me – not God.
So, it was an utter surprise to me when about a year ago He made me aware of another work to be done, being. This phase has been equally, and differently challenging – I am learning to be content in His abundance, to rest, to enjoy, to be clothed in Christ. I needed time to become firmly supplanted in Him before I could be ready for this work, because before I would have taken them for granted. Now His call turns me toward His promise; I am taking my first shaking, uncoordinate steps. I am in a new way realizing the Greatness of His work; one that requires, simultaneously, a more dependent and independent discipline of myself toward this Amazing Love.
I have a task-oriented personality, and there is great satisfaction when I can complete tasks in a timely, neat and efficient manner. This is a good thing for a nurse (and it keeps my homework done and apartment clean!). Professionally, learning to be has lead me into a transition from doing nursing to being a nurse: nursing work takes on deeper meaning as focus shifts from seeking external approval of competence, to trusting in being the nurse I was called to be.
I’ve been filled with such mixture of delightful surprise and sober conviction as I see with fresh eyes His startling beauty – unchecked doing can blind us from realizing the fullness of Him, in circumstance, in places, in ourselves, and in others. I also have discovered, and occasionally act upon, a previously repressed urge to break out dancing in joy of Him … eee!
Praying with you: that we be placed in the lap of the only One worthy of a throne, and delight in the works He has given us to do.

Body of belief.

Belief is not 'merely' what I once thought: culminating in a purely cognitive or spiritual exercise. Belief is meant to be embodied: lived out with every straining fibre of our whole Self – the mind, the body, the spirit.
How many times have we heard good things, good news and simply do not believe it? That we intellectualize it into a neat cognitive box or out of possibility? Or romanticize it to the point that in dissolves into something euphorically intangible and superficially sentimental?
I do this all of the time - particularly, in relation to my faith, where I read one thing and am perhaps even passionately convicted by it, but distinctly believe in my body it’s antithesis; I continue living out what could be called a lie (though very much tangible in reality), and dismissing Truth.
I’ve been meditating on this for the last few weeks, and here’s the verse. We can look at it together,
The spirit is indeed willing, but the flesh is weak. - Matthew 26:41
If you, just as myself and I ascertain many others, have traditionally read this with an interpretation that justifies the imposition of guilt inspired, stern self-regulation toward improving personal piety, than: Good news! There is no end to the fullness that God’s words can speak to us. There is more.
This verse well defines a very literal problem – a disconnect between the indwelling and an outworking of Christian faith. Often, we sequester our faith lives into the interior recesses of our beings rather than wearing them upon our sleeves (or foreheads, or wrists), because, most likely, we have grown up into the prevalent understanding that faith is equal to the spiritual and/or religious which belongs to the personal domain. An untouchable, unrecognizable faith, imperceptible to the scrutiny of anything or anyone else; a faith we internally mediate to satisfy our personal whims and needs - the delight of every individual.
But here, though this verse certainly indicates that there is a failing on the part of the body to work out one’s faith (and how humbling that is), belief is anticipated to be externalized in our bodies – our lives. Embodiment is part of belief. The ramifications of this are stunning. We are ushered into a community of embodied believers.
The last several months have meant a renewed, deeper pursuit of living out Christ in my superficial myself. I know - sounds highly mysterious and, even perhaps like a retreat back to a disconnected, intangible ‘spiritual’ discourse meant to bolster a believer with a sense of being above reproach. I'll be upfront with my confidence, Jesus Christ. A man who existed in history; sharing with you, and me the common experience of living, walking, and breathing on this earth. And He also spoke real words – words that more often than not confound me, not because I need to be some sort of hyperspiritual person to interpret them – but because I am often unacquainted the glories He speaks of in my common experience (i.e. most recent: not including myself to possess the dignity innate to humanity, because it has not been understood as part of my concept of Self, and thus not lived out in my body). This ignorance presses me to want more understanding – not for knowledge sake, but in rhythm with the will of Him Who came to offering the strength we so lack. Strength to possess body and belief.

paradox - Mmm

Have you ever felt two things at once? Or experienced opposite ends of a spectrum at once?

This is the story of my life right now.

I just started my Masters a few weeks ago - and I am astounded. I love it. It's demanding. It's so good. I've never consumed so much coffee in my life.

I had to leave school for a few days to fly red-eye home for a funeral. I was so joyful in loving that person. I was so grieved.

Two days later I was back out West. I woke up to an excited friend with news of an engagement. And later, sat with proud, beaming-smile, as my dear friend watched his bride dance down the aisle toward him. I was so excited.

I am starting my first job in two weeks. I have no idea what to expect. I wonder if I have what it takes. I have to trust, them and Him.

Moving to a new city in one week, and this is a move I'd never anticipated having to make. I am excited. I am uncertain.

And then there are the three papers due in the time between now and then. I am bogged down and over-caffeinated.

Even in the midst of all this punctuation, my hopes lay ambiguous in their possibility. I am frustrated. I am impatient.

And so, I have been excited, angry, frustrated, joyful, tense, waiting and ready - simultaneously.

Last Monday, I crashed:

Oh God - I am so smushed by demands, and my own expectations. do You want even my roadkill self? and I'm having a really tough time understanding: why? how? when?


This last week with my Father has been to me, like sweet breaths of fresh air, restoring my failing spirit. It's hard to get to a place where I'll even be listening to Him, to accept this gift, because I have to give up being self-sufficient. Tough notion for a single, young professional. But it's the only way to live in this paradox, between the world now and the world restored, between us as we are now and the hope of us restored:

Blessed, rather, are the chased, the harassed who must daily stand before my enigmas and cannot solve them. My grace is unpretentious, but the poor are satisfied with little gifts.
- Hans Urs Von Balthasar

Dying to be Saved

Well, seeing that it's the 7th of June, 2009 I think that I should maybe make an effort at a post here.
I was listening through some music from this past school year in an evening of post-graduation-reflecting-on-the-seasons-of-life-and-wondering-at-what-on-earth-the-future-will-hold-because-God-sure-shocked-me-consistently-through-the-last-five-years.
I came across a song that Melodie and I wrote together. I'd like to share it. It is called, Dying to be Saved.
This song, is for hearts, for bodies, for minds that are tired, hurt, and those just totally laid to waste by circumstances that are way bigger than themselves, trying to find their bearings. It is for hearts that, like mine, ache for what they hope for. What is ultimately found, in fullness, in Jesus Christ.
Near the end of my hoping that life could ever change from how it was, I was “dying to be saved” from uncontrollable circumsances that were utterly consuming life. It is also a simple proclamation, “dying to be saved” – that we are crucified with Christ that we may be raised in His life.



Dying to be Saved
Heather Elliott, 2008
Verse 1
When did I end up wasted?
How did I get so low?
This life is not how I would have made it
Maybe that was always the point
Chorus:
I’m dying to be saved
I’m dying to be saved from me
I am circumstance,
This body is my world
I’m dying to be saved
I’m dying to be saved
Verse 2:
I try to trust that it will be okay
But I’ve fallen into every hole
I carry on faking that I’m brave
A smile masks the weakness I only know
Chorus repeat
Bridge:
Where’s this hope that I’d hoped for?
Is there an end to this hurt?
Is there really a reason -
Because I can’t see out of ‘me’.
Verse 3:
I thought that life would always be happy,
But now I know we live in pain.
The way down has been long and heavy
But the view from the bottom up makes me free
Chorus repeat

The circumstances that allowed this song to come have since passed - horrible things, yet starting to heal in a beautiful way that is the work of the finest Hands.
He does, if I let Him.
My consistent pattern is to hold out with stubborn grasps at controlling my circumstances (like try global climate change: that was February's big passionate struggle; or trying to act like everything is fine when you've just dislocated your shoulder the day before your final hospital practicum: that was March) until I crumple into odd defeat that takes Him weeks, months, even years to gently piece me back together from.
Yes, friend, I am a very prideful woman.
Sometimes, I hold Him at arm's-length because He is overwhelming; and then, so too seems the restoration process.
And sometimes, He tucks me in the crevice of a rock like He did with Moses, letting me only get a glimpse of the backside of His glory (which .....there aren't even words) because I'm not prepared to behold it right now.
I just graduated from university a little over a month ago. In the time that has passed since that wonderful celebration, I have been learning still that I am 'dying to be saved' from so many things that make the world around me feel stiffling with impossible demands and the future seem overwhelming in it's enormity. I'm a nurse now; and the responsibility of it nearly crushes me.
But, there is hope. Because the death of my tiny perspectives, tiny dreams, tiny imagination, and tiny courage means that the Infinite, Intimate God that I ravenously love, tells again His story of redemption. The one He always loves to tell and I've come to realize, is honestly always telling.