Henry is back in the hospital again. It's really a story of God's protection - the way God just jumps in and arranges our lives so disaster is prevented. Again.
Anyways, on one of my trips to or from visiting, I got to thinking about our situation and really how I would just like to blame somebody or something for all this crap that keeps happening to us.
After all, back in the early 90's we were a nice little Christian family, struggling along in the world. Henry was finally in university and headed to be a university prof so he could be a positive influence on a campus somewhere - so he could be the missionary teacher he felt called to be. But the pancreatitis he had struggled with for a few years suddenly took over our lives and we watched our dreams die one by one.
Was it our fault? Did we have some hidden sin in our lives? (this has been suggested to us more than once) Did we have some area of unforgiveness? (yep, this one has come up several times) Had someone cursed us? Was it a generational curse?
I'm not saying those things can't be true. But, all this belly button gazing gets exhausting.
And maybe it is our fault ... maybe we haven't examined the right area, maybe we haven't asked the right questions. I don't know.
But ... the whole thing ... the need to have an answer to this situation ... the need to place blame somewhere!!!
In the end it feels a bit superstitious.
How big is our God anyways?
Remember when the disciples came to Jesus asking whose fault it was that the man had been born blind? Was it his fault? Or his parents fault? Jesus told them it wasn't a blame situation at all.
In Luke 13, it comes up again ... people who were killed because of this or that ... were they "worse sinners" than everyone else because of what had happened to them? No, Jesus says, they were not worse sinners.
So ... there's just no one to blame.
So ... we carry on, one day at a time ... and keep praying for strength, and to be able to love and honour God, and for help and healing, and ... everything else we can think of.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 05, 2009
God is working
This is just the best story I have heard in a long time.
Henry's homecare nurse has a little girl in grade 2 named Caley. Although they are not a churched family, Caley went to the last "PA Day" hosted by the Presbyterian Church - I think it was last January or February. The day at the church is called Bible Times Village and the kids get Bible Stories, do crafts, music, etc. A great way to serve the community as working parents can send their children there for the day for a minimal cost.
So anyways, Caley and a girl at school got into a discussion somehow about Adam and Eve and Caley informed the other girl that Adam and Eve had had their legs cut off. The other girl was certain this was not correct, but Caley was as certain that this is what she had learned at Bible Times Village. (Moral - be careful what you teach - you have no idea what a little person will hear!)
Well, the next day the other little girl brought a Bible to school with her so they could look up the story. Isn't that awesome!?
And then Caley was determined to take the huge family Bible her family had, to school with her so they could look it up again.
This is just so cool. God is surely always on the move, whispering, leading, and loving. He has not forgotten these awesome little kids. Hurray!
Henry's homecare nurse has a little girl in grade 2 named Caley. Although they are not a churched family, Caley went to the last "PA Day" hosted by the Presbyterian Church - I think it was last January or February. The day at the church is called Bible Times Village and the kids get Bible Stories, do crafts, music, etc. A great way to serve the community as working parents can send their children there for the day for a minimal cost.
So anyways, Caley and a girl at school got into a discussion somehow about Adam and Eve and Caley informed the other girl that Adam and Eve had had their legs cut off. The other girl was certain this was not correct, but Caley was as certain that this is what she had learned at Bible Times Village. (Moral - be careful what you teach - you have no idea what a little person will hear!)
Well, the next day the other little girl brought a Bible to school with her so they could look up the story. Isn't that awesome!?
And then Caley was determined to take the huge family Bible her family had, to school with her so they could look it up again.
This is just so cool. God is surely always on the move, whispering, leading, and loving. He has not forgotten these awesome little kids. Hurray!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Lent
We've sort of been doing a series of experiments in spiritual practices for the Saturday nights of the Lent season. It has been such a blast! A few people from a church north of us have been coming to join us. What an awesome bunch. Every week has been a treasure and I am not looking forward to when it is over ... it's just been too good.
The first week we tried Praying in Color. I think I first heard of Sybil Macbeth a little over a year ago when I was looking for interviews with Phyllis Tickle to listen to over the internet. I tried it for awhile at that time, but ... I dunno ... it wasn't a fit for me. This year, as we were brainstorming for the Lent Study, the idea resurfaced. A friend sent me a youtube link and it seemed a fun thing to try on one of our Saturday nights. It was great! What an interesting way to "pray".
The second week, we all received a lump of clay. The scripture reference was Isaiah 64:8 "We are like clay, and you are the potter. Your hands made us all." The instructions were to play with the clay, and as you do so, ask God what he saw as valuable in you. We did this for 20 minutes and after the coffee break, instead of doing another round of it, we just went around the room and shared what we were thinking, what we had formed, and what we felt God had taught us in this. It was amazing! The things that people shared were just so amazing.
Then we tried "Centering Prayer". What an interesting experience to sit in silence for 20 minutes with a group of people. There was something wonderful and thick and peaceful about that silence. When the 20 minutes was up, it was like you had to pull yourself back into real life and time and it felt like everyone was reluctant to do so.
Last week, we did "Journaling" as taught by Mark Virkler. This is where you sit and ask God to speak to you and then you write and write and write and do not worry about "judging" how much of what you wrote was really from God or not, until after. You don't stop in the middle. You just trust God is big enough and you just write. It was a very cool experience.
After the writing, we sat in pairs and read to each other what we had written. The woman who shared with me is a dear lady who is part of the group that comes from the other church north of us. As she was reading her paper to me, an image formed in my mind of trying to swim underwater. Diving down and finding that we had popped back up and then diving down again. It sort of felt like that, and when I went over what I read it sort of felt like that too. It's such a learning experience, this listening to God, and getting it right! Rereading my own writing, it's like I can see some spots where I was successfully "swimming underwater" and some other parts, I'm just not sure about. And that's okay.
This week? Well, this will be our second last "Lent Study" and we are going to try an evening of Lectio Divina. Wish you could join us!
The first week we tried Praying in Color. I think I first heard of Sybil Macbeth a little over a year ago when I was looking for interviews with Phyllis Tickle to listen to over the internet. I tried it for awhile at that time, but ... I dunno ... it wasn't a fit for me. This year, as we were brainstorming for the Lent Study, the idea resurfaced. A friend sent me a youtube link and it seemed a fun thing to try on one of our Saturday nights. It was great! What an interesting way to "pray".
The second week, we all received a lump of clay. The scripture reference was Isaiah 64:8 "We are like clay, and you are the potter. Your hands made us all." The instructions were to play with the clay, and as you do so, ask God what he saw as valuable in you. We did this for 20 minutes and after the coffee break, instead of doing another round of it, we just went around the room and shared what we were thinking, what we had formed, and what we felt God had taught us in this. It was amazing! The things that people shared were just so amazing.
Then we tried "Centering Prayer". What an interesting experience to sit in silence for 20 minutes with a group of people. There was something wonderful and thick and peaceful about that silence. When the 20 minutes was up, it was like you had to pull yourself back into real life and time and it felt like everyone was reluctant to do so.
Last week, we did "Journaling" as taught by Mark Virkler. This is where you sit and ask God to speak to you and then you write and write and write and do not worry about "judging" how much of what you wrote was really from God or not, until after. You don't stop in the middle. You just trust God is big enough and you just write. It was a very cool experience.
After the writing, we sat in pairs and read to each other what we had written. The woman who shared with me is a dear lady who is part of the group that comes from the other church north of us. As she was reading her paper to me, an image formed in my mind of trying to swim underwater. Diving down and finding that we had popped back up and then diving down again. It sort of felt like that, and when I went over what I read it sort of felt like that too. It's such a learning experience, this listening to God, and getting it right! Rereading my own writing, it's like I can see some spots where I was successfully "swimming underwater" and some other parts, I'm just not sure about. And that's okay.
This week? Well, this will be our second last "Lent Study" and we are going to try an evening of Lectio Divina. Wish you could join us!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
it's about people
We have been listening to Diana Waring’s What in the World's Going on Here?, a set of tapes we bought several years ago in our homeschooling days. Diana is a lover of history and because of that, very easy to listen to.
This certain set covers from "the Resurrection to the Reformation". When I listen to Diana tell of the power struggle between leaders of the church from the 300's and on, I find it so amazing ... or rather, so disturbing. How can men say on one hand that they are followers of one such as Jesus Christ, and yet vie for power, commit all kinds of horrible acts, send people off to kill and destroy, etc? I just don't get it.
I don't get the huge churches and cathedrals either. I appreciate their beauty on one hand, and yet on the other, I just don't understand how church leaders could have known Jesus at all and then spent such enormous amounts of money on fancy buildings. It just does not make sense to me.
It bothers me that even in our day and age ... in our understanding of who Jesus is and what he is about, that we can put such emphasis on buildings and power and things and forget people. I just don't get it.
I'm involved in a church community. I tried not to be. I really did.
But God snuck up on us and we got swept into this faith community.
And then I tried so hard not to get involved within the church community. I really did.
I had heard the stats that basically 10% go to church, and another 10% will go if you hold the right program or whatever. But there are 80% out there that will just never go inside the church at all.
I wanted to go after them. I wanted God to send me out to that 80%.
But I didn't know how to do that. I still don't know how.
And at this point in my life, I need a community - a strong community of caring people around me. And God has answered our prayers and placed us in this awesome community of caring people.
And I found that whatever gifts I had, actually were of value to this community ... that there really was a place for me here.
So here I am stuck (sort of) ... caring about the church and longing to be involved in nurturing and encouraging the church ... and yet ... longing to find a way to still connect with and be a part of "calling into faith" those who are outside, who will never come in unless someone goes out and finds them.
I am afraid for the church too, though. I am afraid that "the church" has forgot that it is about loving those outside, and making a way for them to come in easily. I am afraid that we are somewhat like those in the past ... that we think it's about power and buildings and things ... and that we can so easily forget it's about people. Okay, I'm talking a way smaller scale than those I heard about on Diana Waring's tapes, but still ...
It just seems like we, the church (at least this seems true of almost every faith community I've been apart of) very easily slide into this maintenance mode and forget our mandate is to "go". Maintenance isn't wrong. I don't know where the balance is ... there must be a way to look after those who are part of the faith community and yet to also "go" to those outside. There must be a way.
There must be a way.
This certain set covers from "the Resurrection to the Reformation". When I listen to Diana tell of the power struggle between leaders of the church from the 300's and on, I find it so amazing ... or rather, so disturbing. How can men say on one hand that they are followers of one such as Jesus Christ, and yet vie for power, commit all kinds of horrible acts, send people off to kill and destroy, etc? I just don't get it.
I don't get the huge churches and cathedrals either. I appreciate their beauty on one hand, and yet on the other, I just don't understand how church leaders could have known Jesus at all and then spent such enormous amounts of money on fancy buildings. It just does not make sense to me.
It bothers me that even in our day and age ... in our understanding of who Jesus is and what he is about, that we can put such emphasis on buildings and power and things and forget people. I just don't get it.
I'm involved in a church community. I tried not to be. I really did.
But God snuck up on us and we got swept into this faith community.
And then I tried so hard not to get involved within the church community. I really did.
I had heard the stats that basically 10% go to church, and another 10% will go if you hold the right program or whatever. But there are 80% out there that will just never go inside the church at all.
I wanted to go after them. I wanted God to send me out to that 80%.
But I didn't know how to do that. I still don't know how.
And at this point in my life, I need a community - a strong community of caring people around me. And God has answered our prayers and placed us in this awesome community of caring people.
And I found that whatever gifts I had, actually were of value to this community ... that there really was a place for me here.
So here I am stuck (sort of) ... caring about the church and longing to be involved in nurturing and encouraging the church ... and yet ... longing to find a way to still connect with and be a part of "calling into faith" those who are outside, who will never come in unless someone goes out and finds them.
I am afraid for the church too, though. I am afraid that "the church" has forgot that it is about loving those outside, and making a way for them to come in easily. I am afraid that we are somewhat like those in the past ... that we think it's about power and buildings and things ... and that we can so easily forget it's about people. Okay, I'm talking a way smaller scale than those I heard about on Diana Waring's tapes, but still ...
It just seems like we, the church (at least this seems true of almost every faith community I've been apart of) very easily slide into this maintenance mode and forget our mandate is to "go". Maintenance isn't wrong. I don't know where the balance is ... there must be a way to look after those who are part of the faith community and yet to also "go" to those outside. There must be a way.
There must be a way.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Loved and loving
At church we have been watching clips of "The Visual Bible: the Gospel of Matthew" with Bruce Marciano portraying Jesus. A few weeks ago, the clip was about when John the baptizer is in the Jordan River baptizing people and Jesus comes along. Now I have seen this movie a number of times - maybe not recently, but it is not a new film to me.
That Sunday though, as I was watching the screen and it became evident that Jesus was about to come into view, and then there he was, walking toward the camera ... well, some deep emotion caught me off guard. I was afraid I was going to burst out sobbing right in church. This incredible feeling ... where you catch your breath and this thing in your chest is so strong ... you could very well come undone right there and then. It caught me off guard. It surprised me. I'm not sure what that was about ... but something about him coming into view. There's something about that ...
Yesterday the clip we watched, showed Jesus choosing the twelve disciples. As we heard Matthew dictating his gospel, we saw Jesus moving among the twelve. This time I was struck by his love. I thought, "Ohmigosh, to be loved like that!" I felt some rush of the purity of his love ... I kept thinking how wonderful it would be to be loved with such a pure love, a "no agenda" love, a love that is not about what I have to offer in return.
You'd think I wasn't loved at all ... or that I don't feel loved at all. But I do! I know my husband loves me. I know my family loves me. I know I have friends that love me. And truthfully, I don't think they only love me for what I have to offer in return.
So ... I don't know why I was overwhelmed by Jesus' love in the film. I don't know what it is that I saw that was so attractive to me.
Maybe it's because I know we really are selfish at our core. None of us are really free of agenda and ..... other stuff.
This past week, a friend accused me of not being a selfish person. It's a nice thing to be accused of really. And it made me think. I wish it was true. And ... really it is true to a certain level in my life. But there is another place in me ... another place that wants my own space, that is bugged about having to stay in a kind and giving mode when I really don't want to.
I had a snarly day a few days ago. I had been out and busy and then came home and the ones at home had not taken care of certain things ... the dishes weren't done, no one had started any supper, the kitchen table was buried still. I had barely stepped in the door and suddenly I morphed into this ... well, to put it bluntly, this bitch. I didn't yell, but I snarled at anyone within earshot. And then a few minutes into my ranting, I noticed the effect this was having on beloved Henry and I wished I was a kind and gentle and totally unselfish person.
I need grace. I desperately need grace from God. Everyday. All the time.
That love that I felt when I watched the film ... I need that. I need to know that. I need to have that washing over my life everyday. And I want to be so possessed by that love that it leaks out of me ... all over the place ... all over everybody ... all the time ... nonstop.
Yep, that's what I want.
That Sunday though, as I was watching the screen and it became evident that Jesus was about to come into view, and then there he was, walking toward the camera ... well, some deep emotion caught me off guard. I was afraid I was going to burst out sobbing right in church. This incredible feeling ... where you catch your breath and this thing in your chest is so strong ... you could very well come undone right there and then. It caught me off guard. It surprised me. I'm not sure what that was about ... but something about him coming into view. There's something about that ...
Yesterday the clip we watched, showed Jesus choosing the twelve disciples. As we heard Matthew dictating his gospel, we saw Jesus moving among the twelve. This time I was struck by his love. I thought, "Ohmigosh, to be loved like that!" I felt some rush of the purity of his love ... I kept thinking how wonderful it would be to be loved with such a pure love, a "no agenda" love, a love that is not about what I have to offer in return.
You'd think I wasn't loved at all ... or that I don't feel loved at all. But I do! I know my husband loves me. I know my family loves me. I know I have friends that love me. And truthfully, I don't think they only love me for what I have to offer in return.
So ... I don't know why I was overwhelmed by Jesus' love in the film. I don't know what it is that I saw that was so attractive to me.
Maybe it's because I know we really are selfish at our core. None of us are really free of agenda and ..... other stuff.
This past week, a friend accused me of not being a selfish person. It's a nice thing to be accused of really. And it made me think. I wish it was true. And ... really it is true to a certain level in my life. But there is another place in me ... another place that wants my own space, that is bugged about having to stay in a kind and giving mode when I really don't want to.
I had a snarly day a few days ago. I had been out and busy and then came home and the ones at home had not taken care of certain things ... the dishes weren't done, no one had started any supper, the kitchen table was buried still. I had barely stepped in the door and suddenly I morphed into this ... well, to put it bluntly, this bitch. I didn't yell, but I snarled at anyone within earshot. And then a few minutes into my ranting, I noticed the effect this was having on beloved Henry and I wished I was a kind and gentle and totally unselfish person.
I need grace. I desperately need grace from God. Everyday. All the time.
That love that I felt when I watched the film ... I need that. I need to know that. I need to have that washing over my life everyday. And I want to be so possessed by that love that it leaks out of me ... all over the place ... all over everybody ... all the time ... nonstop.
Yep, that's what I want.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
afraid to go forward, but can't go back
Many years ago ... seventeen plus a bit, actually ... we lived in Victoria, B.C. I was hugely pregnant and we had four children. The youngest child was just over a year old. The oldest was nine.
Henry was going to university at the time and one day, needing to get out of the house, I loaded the kids in the van and we went to the ocean. We loved the ocean. We parked in the designated area and walked down to the water.
The road that went down to the beach was a long way around and so when it came time to go home, I noticed that if we just climbed up this very steep hill, we would be quite near the van and it would be so much shorter.
We started up the steep hill. There was a trail of sorts and roots and rocks to grab hold of. The kids scrambled up without too much difficulty. But here I was, this hugely pregnant woman, trying to get up this very steep hill while carrying my year old son. Ohmigosh!
I got most of the way up and then I was stuck. It looked impossible for me to climb the last ten feet carrying my son, but turning around and going back was not a safe option at all. I did not know what I was going to do. What a mess I had got myself into!
Then out of nowhere, two dark skinned men wearing turbans came up the trail. They could not speak English, but made motions that they would carry my son up the rest of the way for me.
Okay, I had a couple problems here. One - I am afraid of strange men. Two - I am afraid of people of other cultures. (Did I tell you I have fear issues? Getting better, but 17 years ago ...)
I did not know what to do. I was soooo afraid. If I gave them my son, would they take off with him?
Neither man touched me at all or offered me personal assistance, which was actually a good thing - that would have just sent me over the top I think. But hand over my son???
I had to do it. There was nothing else I could do. I gave the baby to one of them and then did my best to get up the rest of the way as quickly as a hugely pregnant woman could.
They were waiting at the top, gave me my son, politely nodded at my thanks, and carried on their way ... and left me wondering if they were real men or actually angels.
I feel kind of in the same predicament now. Okay, I'm not physically stuck on a hill. I'm not physically pregnant. But God and everyone has been messing with my head and everything I thought I knew and .... I feel shook up and afraid.
I can't go back. This time it's not unsafe ... it's just not an option. But to continue on the steep incline just plain looks scary to me. There are some things I am terribly uncomfortable about. And I find myself doubting that God can protect me and keep me safe.
It is just not a fun place to be.
I need help. I need mercy. I want security. I want God to just fix all the messes in my life. I'm getting tired of everything being so shook up all the time.
I just hope when God sends me help, my fears don't prevent me from accepting the help to move from this scary place I am in.
Henry was going to university at the time and one day, needing to get out of the house, I loaded the kids in the van and we went to the ocean. We loved the ocean. We parked in the designated area and walked down to the water.
The road that went down to the beach was a long way around and so when it came time to go home, I noticed that if we just climbed up this very steep hill, we would be quite near the van and it would be so much shorter.
We started up the steep hill. There was a trail of sorts and roots and rocks to grab hold of. The kids scrambled up without too much difficulty. But here I was, this hugely pregnant woman, trying to get up this very steep hill while carrying my year old son. Ohmigosh!
I got most of the way up and then I was stuck. It looked impossible for me to climb the last ten feet carrying my son, but turning around and going back was not a safe option at all. I did not know what I was going to do. What a mess I had got myself into!
Then out of nowhere, two dark skinned men wearing turbans came up the trail. They could not speak English, but made motions that they would carry my son up the rest of the way for me.
Okay, I had a couple problems here. One - I am afraid of strange men. Two - I am afraid of people of other cultures. (Did I tell you I have fear issues? Getting better, but 17 years ago ...)
I did not know what to do. I was soooo afraid. If I gave them my son, would they take off with him?
Neither man touched me at all or offered me personal assistance, which was actually a good thing - that would have just sent me over the top I think. But hand over my son???
I had to do it. There was nothing else I could do. I gave the baby to one of them and then did my best to get up the rest of the way as quickly as a hugely pregnant woman could.
They were waiting at the top, gave me my son, politely nodded at my thanks, and carried on their way ... and left me wondering if they were real men or actually angels.
I feel kind of in the same predicament now. Okay, I'm not physically stuck on a hill. I'm not physically pregnant. But God and everyone has been messing with my head and everything I thought I knew and .... I feel shook up and afraid.
I can't go back. This time it's not unsafe ... it's just not an option. But to continue on the steep incline just plain looks scary to me. There are some things I am terribly uncomfortable about. And I find myself doubting that God can protect me and keep me safe.
It is just not a fun place to be.
I need help. I need mercy. I want security. I want God to just fix all the messes in my life. I'm getting tired of everything being so shook up all the time.
I just hope when God sends me help, my fears don't prevent me from accepting the help to move from this scary place I am in.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Lookin' for people like me
I felt like I wanted to add something to the last post - to clarify something a bit - and it seemed better to do my explaining in a new post.
I think we all need lots of friends ... lots of different people who can relate to the lots of different aspects of our lives.
I'm a mom ... and especially during the years when my kids were small, I needed other moms to connect with.
I'm a caregiver ... and many of my friends just have no way to relate to this part of my life. I need on occasion (at least) to dialogue with someone who can understand what this means for me.
I'm a ... lot of different things really.
I remember years ago being very frustrated about not having christians to connect with on a certain level that I really needed. It felt like my christianity was morphing into something I didn't like at all because there was no one who was challenging me, no one who could relate to the way I was longing to follow Jesus.
I prayed a lot about it. I kept saying, "God, you must have people like me around here somewhere. I cannot be the only person with this type of heart and passion." And God answered my prayer in a way I totally did not expect - isn't that always the way?
In the past year or so, I have begun to develop relationships with people who love Jesus in a way I can relate to and who are trying to live lives that please him. It is a wonderful thing.
Maybe I'm just a whiner. Maybe I'm just never satisfied. Or maybe ... I'd had a glimpse of how awesome God is and I've come to realize he has people hiding all over the place.
Yep, I'm gonna keep prayin'.
I think we all need lots of friends ... lots of different people who can relate to the lots of different aspects of our lives.
I'm a mom ... and especially during the years when my kids were small, I needed other moms to connect with.
I'm a caregiver ... and many of my friends just have no way to relate to this part of my life. I need on occasion (at least) to dialogue with someone who can understand what this means for me.
I'm a ... lot of different things really.
I remember years ago being very frustrated about not having christians to connect with on a certain level that I really needed. It felt like my christianity was morphing into something I didn't like at all because there was no one who was challenging me, no one who could relate to the way I was longing to follow Jesus.
I prayed a lot about it. I kept saying, "God, you must have people like me around here somewhere. I cannot be the only person with this type of heart and passion." And God answered my prayer in a way I totally did not expect - isn't that always the way?
In the past year or so, I have begun to develop relationships with people who love Jesus in a way I can relate to and who are trying to live lives that please him. It is a wonderful thing.
Maybe I'm just a whiner. Maybe I'm just never satisfied. Or maybe ... I'd had a glimpse of how awesome God is and I've come to realize he has people hiding all over the place.
Yep, I'm gonna keep prayin'.
Growing in Knowing with Community
I just finished reading Brian McLaren's The Last Word and the Word After That. Very good. But between Brian McLaren and Phyllis Tickle, my brain is doing flip-flops.
Here's a quote from the book that is a good picture of what I have felt for awhile:
To be without a community that is "on the same page" as you are on ... well, it is a lonely place to be. I have felt this loneliness for a large part of my life, and especially the last 10 years. It makes me feel weird and like I don't have somewhere to fit. Sometimes it makes me feel like there is something wrong with me. It makes me desperate to find people to talk to, and I think it might make me a bit overwhelming sometimes, to the people I do talk to.
On the other hand, there are moments that are thrilling ... talking to someone who is keen to learn and for whom some of the things whirling around in my brain are new and exciting ideas. And then there are the difficult moments when someone makes fun of something I am thinking through or just flatly tells me I am wrong and makes me feel like an idiot. Thankfully those experiences are few and far between.
I realized awhile ago that most of what I learn, I learn by talking it out, talking it through. God bless the people who can let me do that! God bless the people who give me the freedom to think out loud again and again ... the freedom to change my mind on things, etc.
A friend dropped in last week. We hadn't seen him in years, and actually in the early days of our friendship, he was more Henry's friend. They would sit and talk theology by the hours and I could not follow a lot of their conversation. At one time they were planning on setting up a ministry they were going to call "The Institute of Relational Theology" or something like that. It didn't happen. It might have been my fault it didn't happen. Sigh.
Anyways, somehow we have stayed in contact through all the years. Not regularly or anything, but once in awhile our paths would somehow connect.
This man is a "father". He has such a father's heart. I remember when he and his wife used to come visit, he would greet me with a kiss - taking my face in both his hands and kissing my cheek. I felt like I had been kissed by a father. A wonderful feeling.
When he came this time, the visit was so ... life-giving to me. Henry and I sat at the table with our friend and another man that was traveling with him. We talked books and teachers and books and a bit of theology and books and early church fathers and books and ... We caught each other up on our lives and our children's lives. It was wonderful. Here at my table was a mentor and a father and it was just wonderful.
It made me feel like maybe I am not so terribly weird after all.
But ... where are the women who think like me? I know there are women who are terribly educated and are "somebody" in the academic world. But surely there must be some who are just like me ... just themselves in their small world ... and are dying to talk to someone else about the things that are whirling around in their brains.
I'm not really sexist or anything but ... the men seem easier to find. Where are the women hiding?
Okay God, it's up to you. Build me a learning community please. Connect me to the men and women who are learners and thinkers.
To be honest, I do feel like I'm on the verge of something new ... like I have the smallest glimpse of something in the distance. The thing is to keep moving forward, right? To not give up.
"Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming ....." Dory in Finding Nemo.
Here's a quote from the book that is a good picture of what I have felt for awhile:
I've found I can only know so much until I find a community that shares my knowing. If I begin growing very far beyond ... what my community allows me to know, I need to persuade my community to think with me or else find or form a new community.
To be without a community that is "on the same page" as you are on ... well, it is a lonely place to be. I have felt this loneliness for a large part of my life, and especially the last 10 years. It makes me feel weird and like I don't have somewhere to fit. Sometimes it makes me feel like there is something wrong with me. It makes me desperate to find people to talk to, and I think it might make me a bit overwhelming sometimes, to the people I do talk to.
On the other hand, there are moments that are thrilling ... talking to someone who is keen to learn and for whom some of the things whirling around in my brain are new and exciting ideas. And then there are the difficult moments when someone makes fun of something I am thinking through or just flatly tells me I am wrong and makes me feel like an idiot. Thankfully those experiences are few and far between.
I realized awhile ago that most of what I learn, I learn by talking it out, talking it through. God bless the people who can let me do that! God bless the people who give me the freedom to think out loud again and again ... the freedom to change my mind on things, etc.
A friend dropped in last week. We hadn't seen him in years, and actually in the early days of our friendship, he was more Henry's friend. They would sit and talk theology by the hours and I could not follow a lot of their conversation. At one time they were planning on setting up a ministry they were going to call "The Institute of Relational Theology" or something like that. It didn't happen. It might have been my fault it didn't happen. Sigh.
Anyways, somehow we have stayed in contact through all the years. Not regularly or anything, but once in awhile our paths would somehow connect.
This man is a "father". He has such a father's heart. I remember when he and his wife used to come visit, he would greet me with a kiss - taking my face in both his hands and kissing my cheek. I felt like I had been kissed by a father. A wonderful feeling.
When he came this time, the visit was so ... life-giving to me. Henry and I sat at the table with our friend and another man that was traveling with him. We talked books and teachers and books and a bit of theology and books and early church fathers and books and ... We caught each other up on our lives and our children's lives. It was wonderful. Here at my table was a mentor and a father and it was just wonderful.
It made me feel like maybe I am not so terribly weird after all.
But ... where are the women who think like me? I know there are women who are terribly educated and are "somebody" in the academic world. But surely there must be some who are just like me ... just themselves in their small world ... and are dying to talk to someone else about the things that are whirling around in their brains.
I'm not really sexist or anything but ... the men seem easier to find. Where are the women hiding?
Okay God, it's up to you. Build me a learning community please. Connect me to the men and women who are learners and thinkers.
To be honest, I do feel like I'm on the verge of something new ... like I have the smallest glimpse of something in the distance. The thing is to keep moving forward, right? To not give up.
"Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming ....." Dory in Finding Nemo.
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