A plea

A graveled path smothering
the weeds with measured stones.
Measured stones, each shape,
granule, thrown for me to go.
Go, upon the graveled path,
open your eyes to see majesty,
squalid scenes, drab mundanity.

I go upon the graveled path
upon the enumerated stone
where hairs are counted, lilies
clothed, and heads are bound
to roll. I hear voices moan in
the bordering weeds, moaning plight,
sight, moaning helplessly.

Oh, Stone-Layer, please wind
your path around. Wind around some
wrists. Wind to help them out.

Wind, wind, until you flow like wind
to rustle out those pained
and in the bushes hid.

I go upon the graveled path where
you've placed me to be.
But, Father, Stone-Provider,
pave some paths, I plead.

TWW 7/15


Notes:  This is not a perfect poem; some of the rhythm is off. But, I wrote it when I was wanting God to do more to alleviate suffering. It's kind of a "Where are you? Show thyself, more, please" poem.  A little bit demanding underneath, but it's okay to be this way. There is a lot of suffering, groaning, and it gets tiring; you feel helpless; you call out for God to do something. But, does he? I guess he provides a path, but a paved path could be the not-promise. Yet, still, I would love to perceive more presence at times, but this could be my own blindness, distracted by much.

Should I in 2012

Should I in 2012?

Write the usual Christmas poem?

All within me doesn’t want to express

The fragments and make them a whole

Infant which carries the world’s weight.

Much has raveled out: the church,

The massacres, the cousin who is

Suffering in another county.

I can stay upstairs and read my book

Of essays; I can fix my Christmas eve

Chicken; I can look forward to travel.

But still the hush creeps into me, and

I think of the baby who changed

Everything and who introduced a

Tear into this universal shroud which

Speaks death all day long and maybe

Tomorrow.  The baby slit a hole

For us to escape and for us to consider

A Love that we’ve never known. A

Purported Love for even me.

While others are enraptured over

The true belief in this, I must still

Be quiet. I must still go to the “stable”

And look and stare. I must put all

Peripherals in a drawer, and I must

Bow and see in order to worship and believe.

And so I sit, typing out a nativity re-enactment

But one in which the baby reaches out,

Through  time-encasement, through historical

Decay, through modern disillusionment, His

Little human finger, sparked with love, to me.

In 2012, despite all, I know the touch and choose belief.

TWW

Haunts of violence

Have regard for your covenant,
because haunts of violence fill the dark places of the land. (Psalm 74:20 NIV)

Shakespeare couldn't have said it better. Our morning news is splashing with the same kind of language especially today as 12 were killed and 32 wounded when a shooter opened fire at an Aurora, Colorado movie of Batman (the Dark Knight) early today.

Truly, evil trails good. Evil overcomes earthly good. We have cries and cries coming up from our ruptured, ruined world.

Optimists believe that the world is our oyster; the benevolent Universe will work things out for our good.

Yet for those who bought tickets for this movie and sat in the line of fire, evil felled them, and the personified "Universe" was puzzled and passive.

David asks that God remember his covenant with the people of Israel. They are being whipped up by evil-doers who want their inheritance, who want their lives, their land. They are wicked without regard for God or for those who are oppressed. They carry evil like a backpack full of grenades, tear gas, quarrels.

In our country, "haunts of violence fill the dark places of the land" all over the place. Our human nature is capable of doing good or doing evil. Those who are planning attacks on others are planning attacks -- have given in to the dark forces inside of them which reap despair and destruction.

Father God, have regard for your covenant. Remember that you will take us if we delight in You and trust that you have a ticket for us out of the mayhem which is sometimes called this Earth. Thank you for those who follow you and do good; may we step it up in your Name and forget the little quibbles which distract us and which promote small violences. Thank you for your covenant which is true. Amen

The crickets are too much with us, late and soon

Right now, as I sit on my outside bench, the crickets are much louder than the birds. Has it come to this that the lowly insects take over the morning song of the bird?

In my spirit, I feel many insects taking over a more lovely sound of assurance. Back in June, I petitioned my school board regarding serving students with learning struggles. One woman in particular, an attorney, interrupted my presentation, asked questions, couldn't see how the school could possibly offer this without lawsuits, was more interested in how the school could serve the gifted. My perceptual hearing there, of course.

Today, I'm discouraged. I've been waiting on God to bear good fruit, to prompt someone to take up the cause of the student who gets denied or discharged because of needs that they have. I'm waiting on someone to connect Jesus' ministry to the oppressed to educating and loving on Christian school students of many different ability levels. I'm waiting on someone to eschew the Greek model of excellence in exchange for the Christian/the Jesus view of excellence as compassion, love in action. But, all I hear are insects and nothing else.

I'm waiting in a hard place, and I'm impatient. And, I'm mad.

I see all kinds of outrage on Facebook right now regarding Obamacare. I see phrases of "my money!" "money!" "money!" One Christian cousin, right after she posted a lovely Bible verse, posted a photo which said to "run the bastards out of office!"

I'm sick of the insects this morning. Sick of the focus being on the dollar, the anger. I am angry. I'm sick of people evading the question of how best to take care of others. What are our responsibilities? The poor will always be with us. There is a responsible approach, but there's also an irresponsible approach and focus. I feel like too many wrong questions are being answered with outrage.

"The world is too much with us" writes William Wordsworth, and all I hear are the stupid drone of the insects, living a short life, and trying to reproduce more insects for the future. I could be one of them trying to make my whine a song. Jesus, help us all to transcend the angry racket and hear one of your simple melodies we can imitate.  Amen.

One hand

As for me, I call to God, and the Lord saves me. Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice. He rescues me unharmed from the battle waged against me, even though many oppose me. (Psalm 55:16-18 NIV)

Last night I watched a Barbara Walters news show in which the idea (or reality) of heaven was investigated. Most Americans actually believe in heaven (9 out of 10). A collective hope and recognition truly seems to me to make the intangible understood. Barbara, of course, covered the wide varieties of heaven belief.

I found the Muslim belief to be the strangest, with the waiting virgins, which is not only a terrorist-martyr's claim, but a scholarly and non-extremist Muslim acceptance too. Of course, the virgins could be male or female depending upon our own gender. For myself, I really don't want countless male virgins! I think one man, like my husband, is way enough anyway. Why would sex be catapulted into the more-the-merrier realm in heaven? Bizarre (unless the belief was written by a lustful, young man . . . ). The Hindu belief too of reincarnation, the ascension into higher human form or lower into animal form, was strange as well. I love animals, and am imaginative and compassionate enough to think of them as "human-like" but I can't really see them as "bad" or "good" based upon their past lives. It's our duty to treat them with respect, though, for being living creatures. (I must confess to helping stranded worms get off drying sidewalks as if truly does matter to save them. Guilt grabs me if I walk by without helping them when I could have. Shouldn't I apply that to humans moreso?)

While the  religious representatives above were a bit grim, the Dalai Lama of Buddhism was an engaging person who seemed to embody sweet and attractive qualities, like compassion and humility and a giggle which delighted. Yet the philosophy was strange, and I wondered about the leaps of faith this belief requires. Many leaps, many hoops. Of course, I'm a western Christian without much understanding or training.

When Barbara interviewed the Christian representatives, I noticed a difference in their affect. They had light in their eyes -- grace, truth, fervor, hope. A devoted Christian's eyes are quite different. Yes, Joel Olsteen looked like a crazed-out vacuum salesman, but he had the light going too. The light validates the story, enflames it as other-worldly reality.

In the above verses, I can see David solely focused upon God, upon a relationship with an Entity who "saves," "hears," "rescues." The Personal is a trademark of Judaic Christian faith. When death occurs, the individual meets the individual Father, the Groom, the Friend, the Comforter, the Judge, the Word, the Redeemer, the Shepherd. Many words designating a One.

Much is based upon what David models: in this life, one hand can hold another, one voice can be heard by one outside our consciousness, one can relax into the battles the one Lord will fight for us . . . until we are reconciled in Heaven one day to meet the One who has been designated for each one of us. And, why not?

A maze to exit

But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine. (Psalm 33:18, 19 NIV)

A maze is embedded in the verses above -- a maze of the mind, a maze of relinquishing up the knowledge that one is lost, a maze of trusting that Someone will provide the way out, a maze of expectation.  I read these verses knowing how difficult this is, especially under duress. When things get tough for me, I often want to blame God. I become mad, bitter, and my eyes are downcast upon disbelief. I think about all those Haitians who died under the rubble, Christian and non-alike. I think about the raw course of nature which consumes people. I think of children who are routinely abused in our evil world. I think, "Where was God then? Is He something we make up during our times of reflection and comfort? Is He nothing but a creed?"

The act of faith, though, obliges me to believe in the confusing presentation of hope seen in the above verses. I must choose, and I must choose with admittance which disbelieves in the opposite of what the verses proclaim. I must choose to believe that:

a) the eyes of the Lord are on me, because I do fear him
b) He has unfailing love which provides me with hope
c) that He will deliver us from natural death
d) that He is our hope and shield.

Why does my spirit still doubt? I think of my friend's husband who died of brain cancer; she believed in healing and rescue more than anyone I know. Yet she still preaches on the hope and the love of God. I wish I could reconcile my doubt and my choice and my longing of belief. But, I must choose because I want to and because I love God. I must trust Him with all answers to hard questions.

Lord, I am allowing your words to enter into my spirit. Please torch and let my confidence become enflamed into a bright light. Today, I will meditate on these verses in belief and confidence. I will seek understanding and trust.  Amen.

Generation gap and bridge

My last post was rather sad, but it captured a feeling and a regret and a hope. This weekend, we're going to be traveling to see my daughter, and I'm looking forward to that quite much. She is such an independent and private young lady -- which makes a mother worry. I'm glad I have God helping me with my anxiety and helping me recognize His work in her life. May she receive and be blessed with peace. She deserves a full dose of a loving and trustworthy Father in her life.

I've been reading Chronicles in the Bible, and the opening phrase when introducing a new king:  "He did right in the eyes of the Lord" is powerful. If a king does "evil in the eyes of the Lord" then ruin and problems happen throughout the entire kingdom. What I can't understand is when a God-seeking King, like Hezekiah who was rewarded both in wealth and victory for his devotion to God, has a son like Manasseh who did "evil in the eyes of the Lord, following detestable practices . . . ." Was he not properly trained by his father? Was he blinded to the work of God in His kingdom? How can the foundation of faith established with the priests, etc., during his father's reign be altogether rejected by the son? I just can't fathom it, yet time and time again, this pattern of good-to-evil happens from one generation to the next. Sigh -- it doesn't bode well for the rest of us. However, other places in the Bible, like in Proverbs, tells us to raise a child in the way they should go, with expectations that they will choose to seek God. And, lots of evidence points to the fact that children continue on with the faith of their parents.

I simply pray that my children know that I seek God and am rewarded with hope, relative peace, and love. I pray that those fruits will be ones that they also desire to open their hands to receive. Amen.

Steadying

"The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him." Lamentations 3:25

We read Shelley's "Ode to the West Wind" this week in class, and a blowing wind does typlify the recent movement between my ears. I must remember that at times I'm prone to being a tumbleweed. So, this morning, I thought about all that's making me roll across Kansas in Jayhawk territory when I should be at home planted in Missouri in lovely Tigerland.

Here's the list:

Career => what-to-do-be. But, I got out the yellow pad, and I'm cheered with my analytical findings. Some roots based upon wise choice -- to think!

My house => scattered yet this morning tidied. Some people in Indiana wish they had a house in one piece right now. But, mine looks good, and my husband will be happy when he comes home. I will probably get a thousand kisses while in the kitchen. Ajax is part of his love language!

Bad news => a local girl jumped off a cliff; tornadoes spiked and rumbled over all in the Midwest, killing 30; friends' struggles; a family all killed in a car accident; three kids shot at a school. God, fragility reigns, but here we are still to gather strength to fight off what we can. To fight. To run after the powers of bleakness. To chase it out the hallways, which a school coach did to the shooter before more were hurt. Heroic response instead of despair and indifference.

Faith => all the above unsettledness caused me to sway, sway. And, I realized that I was unsteady. I realized that even though I have an inner strong personal belief in God, something was frittering away at me which I needed to push back on. Then I found the above verse, and others concerning seeking God. Each of them promised reward, a finding, to those who seek God, who hope in him. Rather than doubt and sway, I was reminded to choose the footing that these words offer. It's all about choice, right? And, it's all about acknowledgement. I am choosing to recognize. To be firm and to chase away darkness.

The verse above => I like how the plural pronoun those becomes replaced by one. There's some dividing to be done; a singular, individualistic direction to make as one chooses to look, hope, and find the treasure to be found in God.

Amen. The Saturday ticks on.

The larger loaf

I have lots of thoughts rumbling around in my head, particularly about faith.  My last post made me think quite a bit about cognitive acceptance of faith and what that's like. But, the day after my post, I became aware of another factor in faith cognitive acceptance:  bad news. Tornadoes, car wrecks, sickness all greeted me as e-mails or headlines. Many were calling out for prayer, comfort, higher love. When faced with such a thing, we tend to forget the questions which are flattened like apples in a driveway. We need support. We turn to God. Sure, there are questions lurking in our head like:  Will I hold your lack of help against you one day? Or, will you actively help and will I recognize it? Or, please, are you there? But, there we go instinctively and with hope and with offers of trust. We hold onto Bible verse promises (those of us who know to do so). We approach. We receive comfort if we're not too angry to be blinded. We feel as if we're actively engaging in a process of relief.

And, we are. Questions shouldn't pre-empt our natural inclination to travel down a path to find God who can comfort and embrace. A God who can offer an eternal perspective. Our minds will just have to quit nibbling at small crumbs of a much larger loaf. Quantifying can only go so far. Our western mindset in that regard is just limited.

Father, help those who are suffering. We all turn to you in time of need and trouble. That is a huge Signifier in itself. Thankful.

Amen.

Pick Up Stix

Yesterday, we had a chapel service for our students; our much-loved speaker chose the topic of "Belief in God's Love for You" is the most important thing to know in the walk of faith. I sat in the back and thought of how the message was being received by the students. I saw one student who I know struggles with acceptance of this idea; one student who could easily exchange this sentiment for what the world offers; one student who believes this with all her heart; one student who will wait for the evidence; many students who willingly accept this message because they have been lovingly taught it all their lives. Whether they will believe later is the big question.

I thought about my class a couple hours later and how we would be looking at Lord Byron's poetry. The students then are eager to talk about other ideas, how the poetry reflects their love lives (or lack thereof), and I willingly stretch their minds wide to encompass new perspectives.

I remember when I was in college at Evangel University. I was so confused and frustrated by the world in chapel and the world in the classroom. The first was typlified by devotional response, by winnowing of misbeliefs, bad values, wrong perceptions. The second, which I preferred more, was  about "All truth is God's truth no matter where it is found." They clashed terribly for me, and I had a bit of a breakdown in my second year there. One week found me crying in my room for about three days straight. I had just read Letters from the Earth by Mark Twain. I confided in no one; no counsel was given or sought. I was just simply miserable in my inability to reconcile, approach, or disavow.

The message at my high school's chapel was good, like a breath of fresh air really. But, I sat in the back and wondered about the divide, between devotional belief and cognitive acceptance. I think it's like the old game of Pick-up Stix. You try to hold onto one belief (one stick) and take care of it, without moving anything else. When you can pick up a stick successfully, you get to progress until a stick gets moved in the process and you have to sit out. I think at times, we are like that with faith; we believe we must cognitively accept at least one thing without stirring up other questions / doubts. And, yes, while we can do that for a bit,  the pile of sticks will eventually move. There is no shame in it. No reason to sit out. It's just the reality of the difficult cognitive acceptance of the devotional aspects of faith.

To that end, I simply pray that my students can 1) accept that sticks of faith do indeed move; 2) choose to know that God is love and choose to experience it.  Amen.

Giving dignity to those who suffer

Prompted by a student of mine, I have been thinking about struggle. I have often wondered about the fact that struggle seems to typlify some lives more than others. To try to make sense of struggle, some people universalize it: "We all struggle and suffer." Who can argue with a statement like that? It's true that we do. However, I often become bothered by such a naive statement of reduction. I believe I can quantify and qualify struggle better since I am a parent of a child who has struggled with autism/schizophrenia/adhd, and the combination thereof which has impacted his daily life. However, I don't wish to reduce the suffering of others, yet I see two big differences to consider when normalizing some kinds of struggles.

1) Some struggles involve a chronic painful nature. They are not episodes or stages, no matter the intensity of these. This struggle has been there from the beginning or for a long time, both in the past, the present, and the future.

2) Some struggles have an all-encompassing nature. This kind of struggle involves multiple outcomes such as the inability to have relationships; to hold a job; to go to college; to be safe in a school environment; the inability to get out of a bed;  out of a chair;  to speak to others; to have a stability of health whether physical, mental, or emotional and etcetera. Life itself can be threatened by these struggles which includes many chronic and encompassing barbs.

I'm sure there are more, but these are what I can think of right now.

In thinking about my student who struggles with mental issues, I can see that his fight is fiercer than the normal adolescent, who is also suffering from various things. His fight is both chronic and encompassing for him. To compare many others' struggles with his is like comparing a cancer to a cold. If others did that his mother would say, "They have no idea," and she is right. She knows about the mental institution, the run after the suicidal son in the night, the continous psychiatric visits, the chronic worry, despair, need for full reliance upon help, the courage it requires.

I like the example of Christ who recognized each person's dignity in their struggle. He knew the great fighters during his day:  the woman who touched his robe; the leper banned from community; the mental anguish of the demon-possessed man. He gave them dignity when they were normalized or blamed or shunned. Great sufferers of the Bible are depicted also as heroic in their fight for light. I think that we can learn much from these examples. We don't have to laud or give an award to those who have greater struggles, but we can give them dignity and respect without trying to take that away from them by reducing their struggle through inadequate comparisons.

My friend who recently lost her husband to brain cancer and her home to a fire wrote this morning about her necessity in resting in Christ's arms through her suffering. She also referenced a hope-filled and dignity-providing verse to those who suffer; a verse which gives purpose and hope and comfort to those who go through certain intense fires. She underlined the meaningful part to her. I'm glad this verse shows the understanding vision and care for those who struggle, both normally and greatly. May we believe in it. Amen.

2 Corinthians 1:3-5  ³ all praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. ⁴ He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. ⁵ For the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ. 

The Tree of Life

Yes, like my fellow blogger who sent me a comment yesterday, I too watched The Tree of Life yesterday by coincidence. Above are pictures from the movie. In the first one, Sean Penn, as the older brother whose younger brother died, is remembering life as a child. His memories are impressionistic which is true to how the natural mind works. If I think of my childhood, I see bursts of images held together in small packages, tied together by a ribbon of the mind which groups, recalls, and forgets. Impressions, perceptions, interpretations are also in the swirl making the memory not at all as it was. Repackaged, represented. Meaning floats to the surface like cream in milk.

In the second picture, family tension, the tension of leaving childhood to take on greater responsibility, fulfill greater expectations is portrayed. Often, we begin to despise one of our parents then, especially if, like in the movie, they are demanding. The Sean Penn character (the older brother) remembers clearly the confusion and sadness of this time. Images of his dead younger brother are outlining these remembrances.

Then, in the final shot, after death, the family is reunited on the eternal beach, waiting for one another, or the Savior, to carry them across the tide. They are joyful, yet resolute to the environment, yet so happy to be reunited. Life has moved on to another stage, and they are together immemorially.

The movie was deeply sad to me because, although life is interconnected -- the tree branches out for us all -- grace is there -- the trials of the human were shown. The calling out for proof of His care was sounded; the confusion, the loss, the layer  below the happy --  all lurked. Even the ending was forlorn due to the beach and people walking alone or waiting for their loved ones. After the family reunites, I wondered, "What's next? Do they wander now? What fulfillment do they finally receive for their souls?"

However, the movie is open to interpretation and impressions, and those are mine. I went to bed knowing that I can't think about the film too much; can't let the movie root in me because of the not enough quality to it. I would become depressed. When I think of eternity, I think of the last stage Narnia and a more biblically described place -- where all is warm, goodness inundates, and divine relationship is established. No more floating, wandering, walking as a small person by the side of a gigantic, cold ocean. Love will flourish. Love will dispel. Loved ones will be reunited in the context of light and Love who will embrace and hold forever.

Hands out, for now, loving others and seeking the eternal culmination of that hope and desire. The end does await. I can dare to believe the old texts as I walk in my brief here and now, alongside the ocean, under the tree, beside an old house where once lived those I laughed with and loved.

Warrior, the movie, and the Prodigal Son, the parable

When reading Nouwen's The Return of the Prodigal Son this morning, I realized that a recent movie, Warrior, somewhat paralleled the parable. The two brothers, however, get to slug and kick and maim and injure each other in the martial arts cage, a modern vicious sport. The brothers carry with them the baggage of resentment, past offenses, father injustice, family division, death, hurt, pain, dysfunction. How good it feels to them to slam one another, pounding out the filth they see in each other's eyes and lives.

In the Bible, the younger son returns after a squalid life. However, in Warrior, the younger son, played by Tom Hardy on the left, returns after leaving his alcoholic father with his mother who later dies of cancer. The older son, portrayed by Joel Edgerton, has stayed with his father, mainly because of a girlfriend and perhaps because of a desire to be the father's favorite. Clues tell us that the younger son, a fighting champion who the father coached, had been the perceived favorite. When the younger son runs away with his mother, he doesn't communicate out of resentment back to his two family members.

Yet in the movie he returns:  broken, hardened, in pain. He doesn't ask directly for his father's forgiveness; rather, he torments his father some at the same time he holds the door open a little for a relationship. The older brother / son leads a quieter domesticated life, but he too has rejected his father for the pain caused. As fate would have it, he must fight to retain his home loan, and the two brothers meet accidentally (and have a tense, unresolved confrontation) as they walk outside of the arena where they will later fight for the championship.

Okay, the parable connection becomes muddled. Yet Nouwen talks about how the tension between the two brothers in the biblical parallel revolves around a father-figure and choices made. Same here. The father figure in the movie, played by the great Nick Nolte, is pitiable in his dysfunction, not like the biblical father who represents God. Yet we capture him trying to also find redemption in his life through sobriety and belief. The younger son who wants his dad to coach him again to win the martial arts championship, sees a Bible laying on the table and scoffs at it. The brothers, throughout the movie, circle the father, inside wanting clearance, love, function, normalcy, although the father is still fighting to receive these gifts himself.

So, in the ring, the brothers find themselves (of course, this is Hollywood!), and they are deeply at odds with one another, although they long for brotherhood. They return, and apart from the father, they get to work their differences out. The last scene in the movie is one of the best; the focus on the finished faces of both brothers is monumental. You'll have to see the movie to appreciate it.

In the biblical story, we don't know how the brothers end. And, in Warrior, it is implied rather than directly pronounced too, yet with more of a possibility given than the parable. We do know that the father implores the responsible older son to forgive and to love and to welcome. Yet the older son doesn't concede openly in the parable.

It's as if he needs a cage to enter into where he and his brother can duke it all out.

Selah.

Clinging

Finally finding the campus of College of the Ozarks, I lined up to wait to hug my friend who just lost her husband to brain cancer. She was my best friend in high school, radiant then as she is now in her faith. She was radiant at the end of the line, almost like a bride.

But, the deal was that the earthly healing she "claimed" in the name of Jesus was denied to her husband. Way down the aisle in the chapel, he was cold and pale.

Throughout the 11 month ordeal, my friend would send faith-infused updates. Her labor for healing resulted in a glowing testimony of amazing hope and assurance that her husband would be healed. I forwarded these to friends because of their power; I dared to hope that God would show himself, that he would involve himself, that maybe I could hope too in connection to my prayers for my son.

Yet, as the updates came, finally came an admission  that the healing might happen in heaven. However, I have never seen such a demonstration in expectancy that God would deliver healing upon earth, even to the last moment.

Her last update on Tuesday stated that her husband was now in heaven. However, he "is alive and well" in a recovered body and looking into the eyes of Jesus.

When I approached her at the visitation, she dry-eyed squealed out my name, and we clung to each other crying. Once upon a time, we had been high school best friends dreaming about boyfriends and husbands and what God would do in our lives. We were both earnest, faith-full girls. We both trusted in good futures.

We both have been down hard paths.

My friend has lost her gift, the man whom she treasured more than anything else. Brain cancer. Life gone. Prayer denied.

Yet there she was quite radiant, whispering to me that Vince didn't suffer due to God's grace in his last hours. I was happy for her.

However, I cried much driving back.

For her. And, that God didn't allow us hopeful onlookers some more, solid, unquestionable proof of his existence and reported upon active care.

Blizzard philosophy -- trying to answer a friend's question

So...here is my question: When you see suffering, injustice, oppression...do you accept that God is in charge and it is all from God...and submit and accept? For example in Egypt right now...the people have been living with the oppressive regime of first Sadat, and now Mubarak for over 30 years. The U.S. has supported Mubarak all these years...because it's better than a power vacuum in the Middle East?! Now after a generation, thousands are ready to break the yoke and stand up and say "no more". Did they suddenly hear from God?

I'll try to give you my meager perspective on your question. Or, at least what I've used to placate my questions. First one about suffering, injustice and oppression -- is God in charge and is it all from God, so we should submit and accept. I think we are a multi-layered world. We have the "natural law" layer -- if one lives on the Sahara Desert, one may be hungry and thirsty; if one lives in the Midwest, one might get blown away by a tornado. God doesn't mess with natural laws --- they are set in motion, and unless it's highly necessary to prove something (like Jesus walking on the water, or the talk with Moses, etc), He doesn't alter anything. He made the potential for the wind to blow at high rates of speed. He made volcanic plates. Our earth is dynamic and continues to roil and boil, and provide pleasant retreat too. The idea of God is one of Supremacy over it all, but He lets it operate. The other layer we have is the man-organized layer: we have social, human conditions which add to life's complexities. We have petty bosses who want to let their issues spill out and make others' lives miserable. We have Hitler. We have Mubarak and his protesters and his supporters. We have Mother Teresa's response. We have the Salvation Army. We have political institutions, religious ones, everything man has created to support his own base or good nature.

The people of Egypt want change. Perhaps their ideas are shaped by their beliefs in God. Their perceptions of what is good for a human being operating in a political system might be supported by their particular religious outlook. We did the same thing when we broke from England. The United States, whose religious beliefs are shaped by God supposedly, who attaches itself to Israel because of religious heritage outlook, acts primarily for the good of itself, although colored by the lens of religion somewhat, yet really is concerned about holding onto peaceful economic conditions which also means staving off one's enemies. We can support this conveniently by the mentioned religious dimension. Here in America, we live the good life. None of us want our enemies to press in on us. We're about self-preservation, like it or not.

President Obama is seemingly going along with the change too, per his last talk. Maybe we can hold onto preservation and the ideas of democracy, maybe we won't lose relationship, maybe we just have to say the Egypt people are winning, so let's be part of the inevitable and be conciliatory.

Did they hear from God? They might think so. Yet the religious dimension is being used to support a world view and a political action. Happens all the time in that human layer. It's not always bad or good. It might be valid or invalid.

The last layer we might have is the spiritual layer. God, Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha (or are the last two man-made?), etc. I choose the first two because of my heritage and because of historical and logical reasons. This layer is one we try to manipulate and understand and emulate. We try to praise it; we try to force it; we try to verify it constantly; we use it. It's very complex. Even if I'm tempted to say "and it's very simple", I know that isn't true. It's complex. Because how does God infuse the layers? And, does He? Remember the devotion I sent which was my friend's writing regarding her husband's brain tumor? It's a test. If he isn't healed, God did not in fact intervene, and the voice my friend heard isn't more than her intense wishful thinking. If he is healed, it could be the science involved, but it could be God involved, and perhaps because she tapped into his layer repetitively and with great assurance and seeking, she is rewarded for her faith. It will be interesting to see what happens. Admitted or not, we'll all be disappointed if this faith test isn't resolved positively.

This spiritual layer seems to be more individualistic than corporate. It seems like it works despite the tornado, earthquake, monsoon, even cancer. My friend will make peace with God even if her husband dies. Is it possible to believe in God when you have no earth's resources? Or, when the social layer is so intense and full of problems? Seems as if there are blocks, obstacles, yet we all universally live within the circle of our conscience, of our soul working toward meaning of some sort. Is the meaning our family, our social connections, our homes, our meal providing, our politics? I can't believe that this search for meaning is non-existent. Therefore, we have religion; we have religious stories and religious paths to take. We have an awareness that we may not be all there is. Some of us are free-er to explore this in our comfort and leisure than others, yet that too has a distraction side. Some of us don't have much of a chance due to our culture or restraints or our suffering. Yet there are undeniable currents -- morality issues, meaning issues, etc.

Where is God? Sometimes what we require of Him is more than what He has permitted Himself to do. Who knows why? Sure doesn't help our beliefs out at times. Yet the layer is there. His layer.

I know some people won't like this because I make him sound very passive, and I don't expect a lot of intervention. Yet I pray for it despite myself. But, I think my prayers would be best served if I could just understand the layers better and why He, in Being, is necessary in our daily operations, search for meaning, and pathway through the layers of this life.

I don't know if I've answered your question. I'm doing a lot of articulation of my thoughts here too which I haven't before. I could definitely be sounding vague, but what is crystal clear anyway?

Egg shaking

The hardest thing to do was to shake the Shabbot egg and sing in Hebrew all at once. But, there I was, alone, near the back, near the sunny windows of the bright synagogue, trying hard to participate in an old Jewish rite: Bat Mitzva. My friend's thirteen year old daughter glowed, particularly when carrying around the Torah in a cloth around the warm, small, bright sanctuary. My friend spoke about the Jewish sense of community and how it had wrapped itself around his daughter, and how her deceased mother had converted to Judaism on the same day many years before. My friend's love interest wiped her eyes one row over in front of me. The ceremony was long, three hours, intense, joyous, mournful (chant for dead), and family-involved with aunts, uncles, cousins arising to read parts of the Torah on their "daughter of the commandments" behalf. The cultural conviction of a spiritual value was high; I felt peaceful. I wondered if, location different, I would attribute this to the Holy Spirit. But, in a Jewish synagogue? I wondered about the relativity of religious belief. I inwardly reaffirmed belief in Christ, although the spiritual expression in front of me impressed me with its call upward to an old Light, to God, to a way of Life. The prayer book was lovely with interpretive readings, poems, insights to which I felt extremely compatible. I wondered about the expressive depths of my Christian heritage, particularly as a "low-church" attendee. It seemed awfully lacking, shallow, reliant upon one's own emotions which often were tangled anyway. The Bible, yes, yet, the Bible used for certain agendas, certain formulas for thinking. Here, certain sacraments were holy, sacred, a bit like the Catholic church. Perhaps they have the same issues of the Catholic church -- rites becoming meaningless with overuse and lack of personal attachment? But, my friend's 13 year old daughter said in her speech that this would not mean for her "rites without personal meaning." We all reach, don't we?

My friend gave me a hug afterwards as he received the congratulations of his friends and family. He is a good person and lives his cultural faith well.

I affirm my belief in Christ, yet I could have easily been born Jewish, believing that the Judaic version of truth passed down from Abraham is the Truth. What do others do with this thought? Perhaps it affirms their selection into a God-ordained slot; perhaps we all want to believe exclusivity.

An Inner Uglier Look

Earlier today, my husband and I took our customary Saturday morning jog, walk, talk on the trail, and we discussed again our church and the fine line between leadership servanthood and materialistic usurp-hood. Then later, he sent me this link which reveals the "hypocrisy" or at least greed of some of the major Christian evangelists in our country. Many of this group are being investigated right now by the top Republican on the Senate Finance Committee. Unfortunately, the excesses appear to be true and is an excellent warning of what to look for even in its infancy stages: http://www.inplainsite.org/html/tele-evangelist_lifestyles.html#Index

I liked the ending paragraph to this article which I've copied below:

Conclusion
“There are bound to be some people who will read this article and say to themselves, "So the leadership live in nice houses or nice areas, so what? This is God's way of blessing them. They deserve this for leading God's people." I wonder if these people ever really stop to think about what they are saying? Do they really believe that God would bless those in leadership with lifestyles that totally contradict everything that Jesus taught. He and the men who led the first century church led by example. They were servant leaders. Ask yourself if any of the apostles would've chosen pricey homes or affluent areas for themselves. More to the point, would Jesus have done so? Ask yourself if the apostles would have used the contributions and tithes of the people in order to have done so? More to the point, would Jesus have done so?” (Leadership Lifestyles of the International Churches of Christ. Timothy Greeson)

Snowfull Entity

Despite the calm of the snow (our two cats are perched by the window staring, their mesmerized forward ears pointing, their backs Bingham-humped), I don't feel the calmest. It's a time where a need for a God, directive and informative, calms some anxiety that a good path will be snowed over. I know that one's own footsteps are exciting, yet when one is lost, a beaten path means rescue and safety. I'm not lost, just wondering about the wander in the snowfull woods. Again.

A perception of God, a real Entity, is essential for me to explore towards and be upon.

Out of the Jar

Recently I took a short three night course at my church entitled "Do It Yourself Bible Study." (Our church is always about practical application taglines!) The idea is to begin a book (John); read the chapter over three or four times one day; the next day rewrite the passage and observe language clues (repetition, dichotomies, verbs, etc); the next session, write questions regarding the text and search for meaning; and finally, the next day, apply what you've learned to your life (ask the questions: what could this mean given the context? or, perhaps, why am I confused or bothered by what it says? in order to help it impact your life).

Today, I wrote questions about the first 20 or so verses of John 1. I wrote questions until I stopped believing in God's goodness and wondered why he withheld instead of gave. Why didn't he make it so people would recognize him? Why is the darkness more appealing to many? Even his own didn't receive him? Couldn't the heir be more apparent if the stakes were so high? These are "negative" questions, I realize, yet there they were.

I began to swirl and despair. But, I typically love questions. It's interesting that when you open the lid, they fly out like lightening bugs into a dark summer night. You can watch them take flight, you can follow them to a stand of alfalfa, or to peony leaves, or you can recapture them and put them back into your jar for the night, where they die before morning.

My questions led me into a bit of research about mythology. The light/dark motif, the god rescuer ... how is Jesus' entrance different?

I'm following the blinking light, and it's taking an interesting path. Where will it land?

Will It bite?

Saying you're a Christian homeschooling mom seems to signify a certain stance. I'm not so good at posing. For instance, perhaps I shouldn't be so enthusiastic when my son asked me, "Why should we pray for my sister during the tornado? I'm sure if someone is killed, they will have also had people praying for them. Why would God protect her, but not them?" Inwardly I cheered at his logic and smartness. The little tyke is growing up out of pat answers and needs to understand things for himself. I complimented him for his thoughts and then said something about hope and comfort being an important benefit for us and her, regardless of whom the swirling cloud of natural laws chooses to alight upon (and, unfortunately, there were two killed in this storm). And, I gave him my views that God doesn't create badness and that he cares. If Cody wants to question how much he cares due to his not intervening for those two southwest Missouri women, then I see that as natural; it is curious. Questions of faith ~~ ones that involve throwing out a line to see if possible a fish will bite ~~ are encouraged here, despite my responses from my own hard-won beliefs. Hardcore curriculum with all the answers figured out makes me wary. Search, young man, search your way to your own fitting statements of faith in God. Amen and amen.