Randoms (13) - The Why Summer Sucked Edition:

It was a terrible summer. And thus my silence over the past few months. There's been some difficult things we have had to deal with - things to grieve and reflect on - subtle life-changing shifts in perspective, beliefs and goals. It's hard, but I really think I will look back on these few months, maybe even this entire year (and the year before) with a nostalgic grace. One day, this will all make sense. But right now, things are cold and a little grey. With that being said, here are my bleak "randoms," part thirteen - the why summer sucked edition.

• Both of my grandmothers died in the span of seven weeks this summer and as a person untainted previously by death and its grief process, it was a lot to take in. I was very close to my paternal grandmother growing up. She shaped my worldview in ways I didn't quite understand until the day of her memorial service. As I stated when I eulogized her, she gave me my  first sense of true community and the freedom to question rules and authority. I dare say, she was the earliest hipster and reflecting on her life was a beautiful, deeply humbling experience...one that I think of often and continue to feel, grow and learn from.

• We continue to wait, and wait and wait for opportunities for Michael, in a job he cares about and went to school to pursue a career in. I swear to God, it feels like infertility. Millions and millions of sperm (job applications) and nothing. Nothing. For a man who's so intelligent, with a masters degree from a great university, it's almost laughable. Almost. We creatively maneuver our lives around the potential of tomorrow's change all the while find ways to exist and content ourselves in the 'same old.'
  
  {Being grateful is a choice. To count our blessings is something we force ourselves to do because in the end, it will destroy us to focus on what could, or dare I say, should be. So we are thankful for healthy kids, a beautiful house that seems to appreciate in value every week, our own health, Michael's current job with AH-Mazing insurance, renewed contracts for me, and family and friends. So many friends. So many, many lovely relationships.}

• Speaking of relationships...after seventeen years, I have left my church. And I am not worshiping elsewhere. And I do not have intentions of doing so for a while, at least. The reasons are personal and profoundly clear to me and long-in-coming. Even though I believe I'm doing the right thing for myself, and for my family (eventually), I take it as a loss. A divorce. The co-dependent dance I've both made an idol and an identity in is over. I cannot say I'm not relieved. I cannot say I'm not heartbroken. I'm confused. And at the same time, enlightened. This had to happen. I was breaking there anyway.

• It was an old Jewish custom for "creditors" to pardon debt every seven years. They called it Jubilee. (maybe still do?) I was thinking recently about how, for me, I go through my own little "thing" with my faith about every seven years. A breaking and molding, if you will, of what and why I believe what I believe. I guess it's my own version of jubilee.
  
  {An observation I have had, in these jubilee processes, is how intimidated and self-righteous people get when you mention that you're questioning the role of church in 21st century America. Or God's intimate relationship with us as individuals. Or the purpose and impact of prayer. "People be crazy." Either God is personal and involved and therefore has me secure in His loving arms. Or He's not at ALL what we claim He is. If we believe in the indwelling and convicting presence of the Holy Spirit, then why in God's name (literally) do people freak out when someone questions something?  Won't He actively pursue them back to restored faith or discipline them for their transgressions?
  
  Even at my most evangelical, this is why I don't think I've ever felt comfortable with the label Christian. I probably would have chosen to identify myself as a seeker if "seeker" was a category back in the 80's and I wasn't afraid of going to hell. (hell scared the ba-jesus outta me growing up. literally!) I've always been a wrestler with Truth, someone who would have overcome the angel like Jacob - that's how intensely I struggle and choose to romp around with the things of God. If God is real, and almost especially if He is, why are questions so scary or shocking to the worshiping church? The fear(s) and lack of real thought in which Christians exist and operate out of is deadly. Jesus was clear to denounce those who practiced this sort of religion and called them a sons of the devil. Pharisees... people in bondage to a system, not a relationship (even with self). I'm proud to sit across from an agnostic or "unbeliever" on occasion and vulnerably express my deep questions and faith fears because it's not my job to defend God. Or Christianity. It's my job to live and die in a vulnerable, transparent pursuit of love. Love. The Giver of Love doesn't require my life to be a stage. I'm so tired of the pretenses. I can't do it anymore.}

• People respond in different ways, after death - after divorce - after great disappointments, in hard situations - in difficult relationships - in painful circumstances. I look around me, at every one of my family members, and see the hand of grief manifest itself in all sorts of haunting and beautiful and sad ways. Likewise, people respond to those who are grieving and struggling in all sorts of different ways as well.
  
  {I've been noticing that we, Americans/Christians/Cultural Weirdos, are so anti-natural process people. We have an innate need to fix the broken, the situation or the event. I want to scream sometimes, "STOP TRYING TO FIX ME!" Because, chances are you can't. I can't. We are so good at diminishing the natural process people need to go through to become more evolved humans. I think if we stopped trying to fix grief, we'd have healthier people. People are so scared of their own humanity. I know I am at times. But I'd like the opportunity to navigate life, even when it's hard and sad, WHILE being loved and befriended.  We need to stop emotionally c-sectioning what could be a longer, painful but more rewarding, healthier experience. Damn Americans, with our unnecessary medical interventions and unwanted feelings and processes. Why are we so arrogant? Why are we so afraid to feel?}
  
   ________________________________
  
  I'll conclude with this. My life is in transition and my jubilee journey is in process. There are days that I anesthetize my pain and my purpose and there are days I allow the full weight of these few months and years to wash over me in tears and giggles and the occasional throwing of a wine glass. (Though I blame that more on tequila!) I love my friends and family, for their allowance of me to be whatever I am, THAT DAY, without judgement or expectation or a need to fix. I'm also thankful for those who cannot begin to process their own lives so they try to fix mine, because they motivate me to keep walking through this (so I don't end up like them).
  
  I will come through this. Transformed and more fully me. Human. Jubilee - the freedom from debt, obligation and fear.
  
  Until next time...

My Manifesto

...making waves in still waters

Having taken a PurposeQuest International seminar and a semester with the founder and president of that great organization in college, I know this is my purpose. Purpose is something that you eat and breath and just are, outside of a role, social norms or the nature vs. nurture debate. Purpose is something inside each of us that cries out and exists despite any attempt to squash and dismiss. For some, it's organization. For others, it's serving the poor. For me, it's calling out the deep potential within and not allowing the water to settle before calling it out again, and again. My existence makes waves in still waters. 

Unfortunately, this often gives way to uncomfortable controversy, an unsettling baring of the soul that most people try their entire lives to cover. I know the reputation I carry; it's an unfortunate result to intentions that are more about an integrity to the deep-sleeping-beauty inside the hearts and souls of individuals or institutions than the wave itself. Nothing tortures me like wasted potential. Nothing breaks my heart more...

I don't make waves because it's fun for me. I don't call out perceived injustices because it's entertaining. I don't make waves because I ever TRY to make waves. I make waves because I was born to save beautiful things. I was created to cause the storm that produces choppy water and stirred up sediment.  People should never get that comfortable in the ugliness of repressions, deceptions, rejections, fears or hypocrisies. If you've ever found yourself in the midst of my vortex of intensity, I can promise you - I'm just as surprised as you. I don't seek it out. It just happens. Purpose can sometimes be painful. Inescapable. Lonely. 

After several years of wondering and studying and taking personality test after test, I release myself to this truth; I will always dive in. It is more painful for me to silence and sensor self than it is to dive in, make the wave, and thrash around in the shit storm that is often my legacy. Part of this purpose is rescue. Part of this purpose seems mean. Part of this purpose is healing. Part of this purpose produces great freedom. But it's not a system. Oh no, it's not a system. In fact, systems and purpose are often in great conflict with one another. It's the system that I'm often obliged to make waves in. I want to look like Jesus here; cutting through red tape.

I have however at times tried to silence myself, to stifle purpose. But like in labor, when you're exhausted from pushing - it's still more painful not to push than exert the energy to push. There are times, oh yes, that I have not dived in, in the name of "strategy" or "wisdom" or out of "respect" - otherwise known as "fear of being misunderstood" or "fear of financial repercussion" or "fear of personal rejection." Giving into the fear is always more painful than living in purpose. Still, I've been cautioned time and again to get out of the water because one shouldn't "die on every hill." I think this is why "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere" - MLK, is my favorite quote.  It's my beacon of courage; my manifesto. All reformers, on any scale, have thrown caution to the wind. Fear aside, they march up those hills. They'll risk death, every. single. time.

But I don't move earth. I move water. There's no hill to die on here. The biggest mistake I've ever made has had more to do with misjudging the depth of the water, on the deep end. The potential within has been strikingly more shallow than what I judged in the initial dive. I am eternally optimistic. I always believe in love, that there is redemption for all people. I have, at times, assumed that the water is deeper, that the potential is greater. That is why I won't die on a hill. I'll hit my head on a rock, first. 

Metaphor's aside, I'm writing this for me this morning. I need to reclaim something inside myself. The wave needs to be alive in me first. And lately, I've been guilty of calming the movement inside, for fear of being misunderstood or fear of financial repercussion or fear of personal rejection. I'm in the throws of labor and have stopped pushing, hard. For months now, I've been battling depression. A slow leak of energy, joy, peace and passion has seeped out of me and I've faded. Faded into a dull color of myself, wading in a stagnant, shallow pool. There's been a failure to thrive in the waters that has only happened a few other times in my life. It's been hard. I've allowed difficult circumstances and a compromise for ease, stifle my purpose and the essence of me. 

I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror a few weeks ago in the midst of what I consider a grave injustice that 'Lindsay-living-in-purpose' would never cower to, and cold water rushed through me once again. Beautiful currents; dangerous movement. Sediment stirred (not shaken). Purpose asking to be reclaimed. In that moment, I made a promise to myself. That I would dive here, for this cause, over this issue. One last time. Here. And I would not cower to the fears that have held me back from being who I was created to be. The process has begun. And today I push forward. It's critical, for me. Like a tipping point. Because if I continue to walk the path of ease and fear and compromise, the fire that magically burns inside of me, even submerged in water, will go out. Everything that makes me, me - will be morphed. I owe it to myself, my husband, my children, my friends and even the institutions I serve, to be me. Not to cower but to rise up, dive in, be the wave and catalyst for the sake of the potential within. 

Beauty is always worth fighting for. Even if I'm diving alone; I'll get out. 

Tag: I Don't Believe in Censorship 

Randoms (12)

I have to get these things off my chest. They tickle my mind late at night and serve to distract me during the day. So here are my "randoms," part twelve.

• Yesterday at church, I sang one of my favorite worship songs with 9 women, 8 of us were mothers & daughters. My mom and I haven't sung together (karaoke doesn't really count) since our tiny Baptist church when I was 17. It was an honor. It was a lot of fun. The entire experience was beautiful & redemptive. I love that my mom has become a very close friend. Over the years we have been through our ups and downs. I'm glad we both have persevered through those difficult times & found our voice, a way to speak to one another in truth & love. 
• Nico is potty training & doing quite well. I've been dreading this mothering-must-do for some time now but luckily, he was ready & transitioned quickly. I will say though, this process has found me saying the oddest things. Like, "Don't pee on Thomas the Train. He won't like it." &, "Why is there urine in this mixing bowl?" & my all-time favorite, "Yes, that's right. Poopie is yucky & gross & you can't eat it."
  Mothering Nico has been really awesome lately. Not that he's perfect or even well behaved all the time but he says the funniest things, with hand gestures & facial expressions that are priceless. He loves his trains & trucks & neighborhood doggies. He loves "his" worship music & his shrimp & kale. Sometimes it catches me by surprise how quickly his world is being shaped. His view of self & family & God & church & friendships are rapidly growing & ever-changing. He takes time out of his day to ponder his great world & reflect & discuss his happenings. He's truly thinking. & he's quite bright. There isn't a lot he misses. I find this exciting & terrifying. 
• Selah has grown from being a sweet, go-with-the-flow kinda early toddler to a wild bunny. Sometimes we look at her & joke about the fact that she looks and is acting more feral than human. Her hair is crazy curly & streaked from the sun. Her eyes are a dancing blue - dark shades of deep mixed with water colored specks of mischief. Her eyes probably speak volumes about her personality. This girl is really something. Special. Beautiful. Captivating. Now if I could only figure out how to get her to come when I call her...
• I'm reading a book called Beautiful Outlaw. It's taking me a long time to get through it because every page has challenged me to think, or more accurately, re-think what I already "know" about this Man, this Savior that I believe, seek & follow. The book confronts some of the ways I'm accustom to relating to Jesus but it's not anti-church, necessarily. It comes at a good time for me. Me, who makes too much of institutions & leadership & systems. Will I never stop building idols? 
• I've been making some slow changes lately & it's awkward. From budgets to lifestyle choices to refocusing areas that I've been emotionally loose & practically sloppy in. Knowledge is power. I believe that. But knowledge doesn't always feel powerful in the moment. Knowledge is really only powerful if, in the new sight, changes are made. It does me no good to keep living like I'm blind, once I've seen the light. It does a world of good to know this reality & adjust accordingly. Setting new boundaries is hard & sometimes leads me to more questions than answers. But all things change. I don't want my finances, relationships or goals to go unmeasured or unevaluated. I never want to live in statuesque just because I was afraid. To change.
• I had been entertaining a potential job for the past two months. After lots of time and energy, they decided they needed someone who could be extremely flexible. AKA, someone without children who could be wherever at a moments notice. I'm not bitter. I'm really not. I spent a lot of time thinking & praying and negotiating this potential. And when I pray for a closed door, & it closes, why would I become bitter? I believe it happened the way it was supposed to. Although, I would have been an amazing asset to their organization. I know that. They know that. & in my most raw humanity, I take it as a loss. 
• My courtyard is fully bloomed, sans the sunflowers. I love spring/summer for this very reason. It's not just that it's colorful and smells fresh but it's the season for wonderful, emotionally-sustaining conversations. Surrounded by plants, flowers, friends, tikki torches & wine glasses, I am renewed.

Gotta run. Until next time...

Open Windows; Cityflicker Things You'll See & Hear

Spring is here and with it comes cool breezes, cherry blossom, green ivy and open windows. And with open windows comes, a vulnerability I am not sure I am prepared for. Living in a community like mine - town homes on a busy urban road, it's inevitable that you will see and hear things from others you wish you didn't. And vise-verse  I guess to prepare you or maybe to somehow explain, here are a few things you'll see and hear as you walk past my house.

• At any given moment, you will hear me tell Nico to put his pants on. Yes, we have reached the special age of nudism and body obsession. I now know more about boy parts than I ever wanted to know. 
• With the nudity obsession, you will also hear me tell Nico where to pee. Just today, I had to tell him sternly that he is not allowed to urinate on his sister. All the while Selah giggling, totally clueless as to what I just saved her from.
• You will see a giant play horse in my window. Because while I try to keep my house as adult as possible in the common rooms, I also entertain a lot of moms with children and they need to do something. Riding "Giant the horse" in the window is a favorite pass time.
• From 8:30-9:30AM, unless I am hosting something or at a morning activity, you will hear PBS cartoons. Yes, I firmly believe in 'decaying' my children's minds with Curious George and The Cat in the Hat.. Judge me at will. I don't care.
• At 5:30PM, we eat dinner. Like clockwork. I believe in routine. And I enjoy cooking.
• Likewise, from 7-8pm, you will see our family sitting on couches, usually one child on my lap and the other on Michael's, watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. We mute the TV during commercials and read books and tickle little bellies. And when it's on, we shout out answers and giggle when we actually get it right.  
• You will hear screams of delight and cries of pain, because having a one year old and a two year old means lots of laughter and lots of band-aids. And also, lots of correction.

So if you're in the neighborhood, stop on by. Take a ride on the horse and watch a round of Jeopardy. Or just keep walking and close your ears.

Impressions & Their Catch 22's

 I'm always amazed when I'm wrong

...when it comes to people.

As narcissistic and conceited as that sounds, I pride myself in being a decent judge of character. And yet, I have been wrong more that I have been right. Why I'm ever shocked at the amazing capabilities of a person or the crappy character some people possess, is a quandary. I've seen a lot. I've been burned, badly. But I've also been blessed, beyond measure. 

Relationships are like that, if you allow them in. They can take you by surprise.

I don't know if it's my current stage in life (motherhood) or that I'm nearing my mid-thirties (yikes!!), but I've learned a lot about impressions - to listen to them sometimes and hold them loosely other times. What might first rear its (ugly or beautiful) head may not be true to the whole of the person. Here are just a few ways I'm learning to differentiate between the two.

Sometimes the warning signs that declare a person judgmental and capable of totally misunderstanding me are absolutely true. I was recently horribly misquoted in a meeting, based off a blog I wrote a year ago, and instead of being asked to clarify, was judged to have intentions and motives I simply never had. Mind you, I wasn't even AT the meeting. Sometimes, the hair on the back of my neck stands on edge when I hear people give strict commentary on alcohol use or women's right or certain parenting styles or racial issues. Sometimes I simply know, if they believe that, they'll never truly see, understand or even like me. Most of the time, I am happy to have made the initial boundary. For all parties involved. Because I usually lack the grace to shut my mouth. 

Sometimes though, the warning signs that declare a person judgmental and capable of totally misunderstanding me are, simply, wrong. I know that I have made countless snap judgments about a person based on a passing comment, where they attend church, their education, life decisions or what they wore last Tuesday.  I am hard-wired to do this. I don't apologize for being socially observant. But I am learning that I am a fallible observer, capable of great insight as well as terrible blind spots. People can make a closed-minded, conservative comment about a random subject but in fact, be quite liberal. I should know; I've been misunderstood as a conservative, Bible beating Evangelical on more than one occasion.

But these examples are trivial, really. They come down to preferences and social situations and time management and how annoyed I want or don't want to be on any given day. These situations deal with my feathers being ruffled, not my heart being broken. There is a difference between the possibility of being pissed off and the feasibility of being totally fucked over. In these situations, I am learning to proceed with caution. (Confession; my yellow lights are usually blinking the fastest in church.. I blogged about this here.)

The more difficult warning signs are the ones that point to real danger. These are the kinds of first impressions that are 99% accurate, valuable and should be immediately obeyed. With my children, I listen to these warnings. With myself, I generally have not. But I am getting better.

I have a friend that was mugged after walking out of her apartment, seeing a man coming toward her car, feeling endangered but for a litany of reasons (not wanting to racially profile or gender stereotype or deal with a world that so often makes women, victims) did not listen to her impressions. She was forced to the ground at gun point and fortunately just had her purse (and sense of safety) stolen. It could have been worse. But it could have never happened had she listened to herself. 

There are also more prevalent examples of emotional cautions we receive and should listen to, but often ignore. For whatever reason, I believe we are all susceptible to a certain kind of unhealthy personality type. For instance, highly controlling and charismatic people, usually in positions of authority, are a weak spot for me. Even when I get chills of terror and dread when interacting with them, I am like a moth to the flame. (I'll leave the psychoanalysis on my weakness for another post or two.) My point is, it is wise to listen to those warnings. I have made real strides toward guarding my heart in this way, but I am still susceptible. We all need to evaluate our history of relationships. Where there is a negative pattern, we should learn to RUN LIKE HELL away from the personality type who gives us warning. I wish my friend cared more about herself at that time than being politically correct. I wish I would have cared more in previous year about my heart than I've cared about snuggling up to perceived power. 

In my teen years and into my twenties, I often found myself diving right into relationships without any guard, blindly trusting that the system (school/work/church) I was giving myself to would discern for me. I was always quite surprised when a person I implicitly trusted rejected or betrayed me. It's only in the past several years that I have started to outgrow this and proceed more responsibly. Where every previous relationship encounter registered green, I now read yellow or red. I simply need to see more about a person before green is given because I am often so wrong. 

And I guess that's the thing.  It really is a learning experience that's tapered to the individuals we meet within the context of our own life's history.  We use the past to help us gauge the present and the future, but people sometimes surprise.  And sometimes they don't. But this is the catch 22 - We are right. We are wrong. Regardless, we need to listen and learn the difference between what is deserving of a yellow warning and what is a red warning. Unfortunately, practice makes perfect. I guess by the time I'm 40, I'll no longer be caught off guard.  

Lenten Lessons from a Passion Play

Lent was very full. There were no breaks or times of lament - no space for the introspection and fasting that usually accompanies the season. I was busy, largely due to my participation in Why Must He Die? with the Tri-County Choir Institute under the direction of Linda Wallace.  It was a truly wonderful experience. I met lovely and talented people and in the process of acting the part of Mary, the mother of Christ, I came face to face with some truths that have spoken volumes in my faith. Here are a few photos and Lenten thoughts, based on the characters in the play.

1. Mary, Mother of Jesus: I think Mother Mary had real moments of regret as she watched her son be brutalized, unjustly punished, nailed to a cross and killed. I think there had to be moments where she wished she wouldn't have been chosen - moments that she wished for normal - moments she regretted ever saying 'Yes!' to her God. She was utterly and helplessly unable to take her child's pain away. Yes, I do believe there had to have been moments that she questioned the goodness of God - His grand plan to bring her vulnerable, perfect baby into a world so cruel. That side of the cross, Mary had to have uttered the same thing her child screamed in agony from a cross, My God, My God - why has Thou forsaken me? It was her cross, too.
   
   
   This side of redemption, we can all deny God's power and the perfection of His plans when all appears dark. And can't it look pitch black sometimes? This Lent, just in my faith community, we have buried retired Saints and people in their twenties. The news has been merciless to a high school rape victim. Boys have used weapons to slaughter classmates. Knives have been used to cut human flesh (in a Target story). We are so fucking broken here. As a mother of two small children, I am horrified at the reality of this world in which they will grow and learn, experience pain and injustice. Having children is like having our hearts walk around outside our bodies. This is our cross as parents; navigating redemption in this painful place. It seems an impossible task - to be like Mary. Her vulnerable strength and grace to endure will forever be my parental prayer.
   
   
   
2. Solome, Mother of James and John: This was a pretty intense woman. She had to be - being the mom of the "sons of thunder." Attempting to secure the destiny of her children by requesting Jesus place them at His right and left in eternity was pretty ballsy. And totally respectable, as western cultured parenting styles go. (Reminds me of the infants pre-registered for 30,000/year kindergartens, who guarantee graduating placement in Ivy League colleges, 18 years down the road.) I wonder if she was the one who created that old saying, "Be careful what you wish for." Because I'm sure, upon seeing Jesus hang on a cross with two dying criminals at his right and left, the irony was not lost on her. I'm certain the symbolism gave her great pause. How limited her view of success was. How humbling it was to realize the cup she thought was a silver chalice was really a splintered mug of poison.
   But don't we all wish for easy success? Refinement without fire - hero status without pain - freedom without cost? Don't we wish that for our children - praying they are healthy, happy, whole and complete - untouched by rejection, failure, injustice and fear? This is the shit of it. Well rounded human beings are never untouched by the cruelty of life. Solome's son James was the first to be martyred. And John was the only Apostle who wasn't. Those parenting odds suck. And yet her story is important to me. It keeps me in check concerning my wishes, for self and family - for it's rarely possible to have great success without real suffering.
   
3. Mary Magdalene: What a woman! She embodied the redemptive work of Christ. From the rags of used up whoredom to the riches of eternal love, Mary Magdalene was clearly a woman changed. Her strength and loyalty tested and proven.
   The depicting of Mary Magdalene in this particular play, and in most passion plays, is the one major element I whole-heartily disagree with. Mary was not a woman plagued with the "Is He man or is He the Son of God" debate. She did not misunderstand His love or her own in return. She was not shallow enough to have a crush on her Savior. She was no confused school-girl. This was a woman who had had the quintessential hard-knock life. She was fiercely intelligent; she'd been around. Jesus rescued her from depravity and sanctified her. She followed Him the ends of the earth; she went with Him to the cross. She wept with His mother and later, she witnessed His resurrected purity.
   Mary always gives me hope. She inspires me never to feel devalued as a woman or made to feel I am too intense about the people closest to me. I relate to her fierceness. And resolve.  She out-'couraged' most of the Apostles and went to the cross with Christ's mother and John. She was brave.
   
   
   
4. Simon Peter: The Rock - the one whom Jesus chose to lead and carry out the legacy of His Kingdom on earth. Peter has always been my favorite Apostle. His brazen commentary, unabashed loyalty and complete cluelessness make for one of literature's most complex characters. What strikes me most about Peter is this; he wasn't a pussy. He wasn't the cliche' church guy who acted a part like so many Christian men do these days. Peter was out - honest - cutting - trustworthy. The antithesis of a Pharisee.  Peter said what others were too weak to say themselves. Peter messed up big and denied his Savior, but the beauty of the story, to me, is that only people capable of huge offenses and mistakes are likewise capable of great successes and victories. "He who has been forgiven much, loves much." - Luke 7:47
   Of course Jesus chose Peter to build the Church. Because the Church Jesus created was never meant to be a jewel-filled temple of white-gloved fakes. He wanted a rough and tumble playground of real people - the kind of people that mess up, confess, accept forgiveness, walk in redemption and share the message of Emmanuel  - a God who got dirty WITH us. Real men; real women - not a city of angels. Authentic to the core and rough around the edges. If our churches seem a little too smooth and plastic, they aren't the Church Christ sanctioned Peter to build. This reminder cuts my church-girl ideology to the core. I think we're doing church wrong. *ducks*
   
   
   
5. John, The Beloved: I can promise you, I have never once given the Apostle John enough credit. I guess I took him for a pacifist, the first hippy maybe (and we all know how much I dislike hippies). I admit, I thought him a little weak. In contrast to Peter, John approached Jesus differently. And became described as "the one whom Jesus loved." 
   Just because someone isn't loud and abrasive, full of grand gestures and risky action, doesn't mean they aren't strong. It doesn't mean they don't boldly believe, passionately care and deeply love. It takes character and great strength to suffer alongside a friend. Most people check out. Most people shut down. Most people talk a big game but never fully deliver. 
   Not John. John was the only Apostle to go to the cross. And he didn't just go, he supported the weight of a mother's loss, the weight of Mary Magdalene's tears, the weight of the world on his best friend, his Christ's shoulders. This was a strong man. We shouldn't judge so quickly - valuing grandeur as if it's more sincere. While Peter's strength was geared toward and utilized to build the church, a ministry to the masses - John's arms held Christ most precious persons, a grass roots ministry to individuals. 
   I am reminded in this contrast that introverts and extroverts alike are called to do marvelous and extraordinary things. And I am cautioned to remember always that love is not weak. In the end, it's Love that laid down His life on a cross and it was the one whom He loved that stayed until the end. Love sustains all.
   

   
   
6. 
   

   Judas Iscariot: There is a Judas in all of us. And I'm not talking the typical betrayal aspect of his legacy. Or his suicidal tendencies. I'm talking about the shock and horror over the painful results of forcing the hand of God and Him not caving to the demand. I don't know what Judas believed as he breathed his last, but I do suspect this; he never thought Christ would actually get sentenced to death. He wanted political freedom. He thought he knew how to obtain that. He wanted Jesus to conform to his own image of salvation. He simply got tired of waiting for Jesus to do what he wanted. So he forced the hand of God.Don't we all?Don't we all get tired of waiting for our perceived answers of salvation? And in so doing, we create our own god just by creating our own answers."If I looked like that, then I'll be loved." (and happy)"If I got this job, then I'd be successful." (and happy)"If I could have children, then I'd be fulfilled." (and happy)"If I get this special degree, then I'll make the money that I need." (to be happy)

   We're all so shallow and petty at times - telling the God of the Universe what He should and should not do in our lives to make us into what we think will bring us joy. I know there is a lot more to Judas' story, but my heart hurts for his plight in this way; I see him in me.

I could probably go on. There is so much to say, so much to relate to. In the end, I was deeply moved by this play and grateful, challenged and changed by the way in which my cast-mates fleshed out such deep truths. I walk away from Lent this year with renewed faith in His story, their story, my story. 

Randoms (11)

I have to get these things off my chest. They tickle my mind late at night and serve to distract me during the day. Sometimes it's the little lingering, unresolved thoughts that produce the most stress. At any rate... here are my "randoms," part eleven.

• It's been FOREVER since I've updated. There are about 100 reasons for that but in the spirit of honesty I'll just say, things have been very personal lately - the kind of personal that would be inappropriate to make public and foolish to tiptoe around. Since I'm not someone to skirt around these things, I simply found myself unable to update. Not a whole lot has changed, per say, but circumstances can be funny. I find that when there is even small changes, especially in attitude and perspective, when I intentionally make time for my own mind's wanderings, freedom of thought and expression soon follow. So here goes nothing and everything;
• The children are great. They are rocking the room-share pretty darn well and with a few exceptions, it's been a joy. Out of spacial need or not, it was always important for me to room-share. Some of my favorite memories as a child have to do with sharing a room with my sister, or sleepovers with my cousins. I want to give my children the space to bond and share and whisper in the dark.
• Last year I mentioned that I had wanted to be a part of a Passion Play entitled, Why Must He Die, with the Tri-County Choir (Sewickley Choir Institute). It's dark and beautiful and haunting and happy. It used to simply be for high school kids but in recent years was opened up to alumni adults. I can honestly say, some of my dearest and warm high school memories surround the cast and music of this show. I was in it for three years and those years were some of my happiest when I was in the presence of my fellow friends and cast mates.
  I auditioned last year as alumni and at the last second had to decline. Post-partum just a few months, I simply couldn't give myself to 10, 4 hour rehearsals and 10-15 performances in the Lent season. But this year, I can. So with fear and trepidation and a few vocalizations with my good and talented friend, I auditioned. And was cast as...DUN, DUN, DUN, Mary, Mother of Jesus.
  This is a role I do not take lightly. Even more than my surprise at being cast as one of the leads, I am deeply moved by Mary. As a mother, I've contemplated Mary and her experiences on more than one occasion and not just at Christmas. I wonder about her, raising a prophetic child - the Son of God - and yet still dabbling in all the practical stuff we moms deal with. How did she balance that? And also, as an evangelical taught to almost dishonor Mary to balance out the Catholic idol worship of her (their words not mine), she's a great mystery to me. Her pondering haunts me, in a deeply moving way. Who was this woman and how can I be more like her? Lastly, as the one who was always cast as the harlot in the show,  I can't help but smile at the ironic choices this year. It makes me ponder redemption.
  If you are in the area, please come to a show. I'd love your support.

Performances include:

1. Fri. March 8 at 7pm- Our Lady of Grace Church 310 Kane Blvd. (Scott Township) 15243
2. Sun. March 10 at 2pm- St. Suzannah Parish 200 Stotler Road (Penn Hills) Pgh 15235
3. Sun. March 10 at 7pm- St. James Church 200 Walnut Street (Sewickley) 15143
4. Fri. March 15 at 7pm- Holy Martyrs Parish 353 W. 9th Ave. (Tarentum) 15084
5. Sun. March 17 at 2pm- Holy Spirit Parish 608 Farragut St. (Millvale) 15209
6. Sun. March 17 at 5pm- Sacred Heart Church 154 Orchard Street (Emsworth) 15202
7. Fri. March 22 at 7pm- St. Elizabeth Parish 1 Grove Place (Baldwin) 15236
8. Sun. March 24 at 2pm- Good Shepherd Church 1101 Braddock Ave. (Braddock) 15104
9. Sun. March 24 at 7pm- North American Martyrs Church 2526 Haymaker Road (Monroeville) 15146
10.Good Fri. March 29 at 12 Noon- St. John of God Parish 1011 Church Street (McKeesRocks) 15136
11.Good Fri. March 29 at 7pm- St. Patrick Church 317 West Pike Street (Canonsburg) 15317

• Speaking of LENT, this year I've decided to force myself into a moderation fast of alcohol. In the spirit of balance and actually LEARNING something, I will be allowing myself one day a week where I have some booze. I feel there is something in this for me to discover about myself or about my relationship with alcohol. And I welcome the opportunity to plan my week(s) accordingly.
• Another Lent thing; Michael and I decided we are going to kiss a LOT more this Lent. We've gotten into this habit of just rushing around and saying bye and I love you, but not taking the time go really kiss one another as a greeting or farewell or just because. We started this weekend actually and the impact it's having on the children is pretty intense, in a good way. For starters, they both stare at us as if the whole world just froze and for ONCE, they are silent and captured. Selah giggles after a while and Nico demands kisses for himself and then comments about those kisses. Like this morning, "Daddy kisses my hair." He's always pretty concerned about where things happen on his body. (toddler, boy, oh crap!) 
• At random, I was asked to speak at my church for their Ladies Day at the Center: Matthew 6:21. I was asked to speak to mothers. I'm still compiling my little "talk" but I do know I'm going to speak on battling self-condemnation with all the "should's" we moms face while raising children of any age, setting boundaries and so forth. It is extremely stressful for me, mostly given the fact that I've only been a mother for 2.5 years and for those who know me well, know I have barely a clue as to what I'm doing. But I tried to get out of it like 17 times and even picked a somewhat risque title to throw off the church conservatives and STILL they wanted me. So, "Stop 'SHOULD'-ing On Yourself, Mom" workshop will take place Feb 23. If you want to come and support me or heckle me, register here.
• I'm contemplating my life a little these days in the stay at home mom gig, my little @cityflicker Freelance business gig, the having more children thing and/or working full or part-time. There are so many catch 22's associated with these factors and while I'm happy to have the choice to feel out what's truly in my heart, I have to admit - my heart is torn. Did you know that mothers who work part-time rank the happiest women and stay at home mothers rank the most depressed? That's crazy. And, um, not at ALL surprising to me. I make a very concerted effort to DO things away from my children and it turns out, there is a LOT to do during the evening and weekend hours.
• One of the most difficult things in life is living in waiting. But I find the more I think and pray and read the Holy Scriptures, the more I am convinced that faith is worth the wait, that character is defined in these moments and that I want to be someone who is reliable and dependable and not so rocked by the shifting sand that is this broken economy, violent world affairs, an out of control climate - this life. I love that cheesy song by Justin Bieber:
  
  As long as you love me/We could be starving/We could be homeless/We could be broke As long as you love me/I'll be your platinum/I'll be your silver/I'll be your gold
  And that's the thing, the special secret to everything is Love. That's the key to living in the wait - giving and receiving love. Circumstances aside, God loves us. And I love. And that is the refinement that makes gold, expensive and pure and beautiful and worthy.
  
  So I leave you with this happy, cheesy song. Be loved, friends. Even and especially if you're living in the wait. ~Enjoy.

Until Next Time,
Signing Off