(An ode to this happy day and the parlance of our times.)
Today is the best day ever!
We found out last night that Jed had the day off, which is the coolest thing ever. I slept in, one of my most favorite things ever, and Jed got up with the kids this morning. Score! He's the nicest husband ever.
I think Easter is the most meaningful holiday ever, because it's the celebration of Yahshua's resurrection, which, repenting of what I said earlier about Jed's day off, is actually the coolest thing ever.
It snowed yesterday, and snow in April is maybe the biggest bummer ever, but today, Good Friday, it's super sunny, the best surprise ever!
(Oh no, you can't leave yet. There's more...)
It feels so much like Saturday, but I keep remembering that we still get Saturday tomorrow, and we have church tonight. If you've ever been to one of our services, with great, free, prophetic music (as the worship leader saying that, is that the most arrogant thing ever?) and an apostle whose mouth "drips with gold" (best metaphor ever, Jenn Rutherford), you know that looking forward to services where we experience the presence of God is the most exciting anticipation ever.
Jed is the sweetest dad ever. He's taking Levi and Adelaide out for a little drive, and while they're out, they're going to visit Jed's old work and show off the kids to the owners, who are the kindest people ever.
Levi has already made up songs, created and then cleaned some huge messes, used his tools to do something awesome to the carpet (no idea), shoveled some holes outside, and stuck his Easter gels from Lolly to the window. He's the silliest boy ever.
Adelaide has laughed at him, screamed at him, harassed him, eaten lots of food, taken a great nap, and furthered her agenda towards wrapping Daddy more tightly around her finger. She's the littlest Bit ever.
Earlier today, I purchased the cutest dress ever to wear to Josh and Katie's wedding. It'll be the biggest celebration ever. Now, I'm working on some music, and I feel like this song will be the most amazing song ever.
Life's so good! I can't believe this greatest weekend ever has gotten off to the best early start ever.
It'll be epic. Like, the most epic ever.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Very Studious (I do teach them a little when I put the camera down)
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| I have the pleasure of being these girls' English tutor this semester. Right now, we're doing the 10-page research paper. Check out the fireplace in the Colchester library. Love it! |
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| Brianna: Day 1 of Thomas Edison research at the Milton library. It's under construction...not quite the selection we'd hoped for, but we prevailed! |
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| Shiloh and her Sticker: Day 1 of WWII fighting conditions research at the Milton library. |
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| This is just so very Vermonty. This flyer posted in the Milton library lobby invites everyone to a "Sugar on Snow" party. This spring-time tradition occurs at sugar shacks during the short maple sugar season when they tap the trees for the gooey, sugary, delicious topping. Put (clean) snow in a cup, top with maple syrup. Enjoy. |
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| The modest stacks at the under-construction Milton library...there were still some treasures to be found. |
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Trying to Understand the Abortion Issue...Ugh.
The cursor on the computer screen blinked at me: Blip. Blip. Blip. Blip.
"abortion" Enter.
I get a thrill in libraries. So many possibilities. So much to learn. Sitting at the computer, casting a line, sorting through options, and making some big catches is always a worthwhile hunt. Not making a catch the first time through my search is just as invigorating. I hunker down and narrow in. I scribble down the cryptic call letters on the little scrap of paper until I'm ready to go on the next level of the hunt. This is so different than my book searches on Amazon. The air smells like pages and leather and ink. Rows of wood shelves full of real life books that I can touch, flip through, and examine stand tall and stately around me. I find my row, getting closer, then the general area, the 700s, the 750s, the 754s, the 754.29s. There they are. Trouble is, my growing thrill is being matched in magnitude by a growing forboding in my gut. What I'm after today is something I'm not sure I really want to find.
There's an assignment in my spirit that I have to pursue. I can't not do it. I'm doing research on abortion. Yuck. Does anyone on either side of the issue really want to really think about it? I think that's part of the problem, though, so I'm going to find out the facts and figure out the origins of it and of our current popular thought on the matter, as well as all the legal and constitutional implications. I say popular thought, but I'm not too sure on that either. Is abortion popular? I have a sneaking suspicion that if asked, not about the glossy labels like "choice" and "rights," but if asked about abortion, plain and simple, most people would say they prefer it didn't happen. Or in the case of pro-choice folks, they'd probably say they wish it didn't need to happen. Let's just put it this way: it's not pleasant.
I am pro-life. I like life. It's good. So I will try to chronicle my research experience and my findings themselves, but I do not intend to be a flaming, raging, argumentative, judgmental virago. There are plenty of those in the debate already. (That is, I won't be judgmental in the irrational, non-compassionate way; obviously, one must draw conclusions, or, make judgments.)
I want to know the history of abortion, the legal fight(s) for or against it in history, how it came to be what it is in popular opinion today, the basis for the Roe v. Wade case that made it legal (privacy, as it turns out; more on that to come), the exact biological process that results in a human being, and anything else that matters.
This much has come up for me. Out there in the Big Debate World, it's complicated. Very complicated. If you have an ounce of compassion, you hurt for women who find themselves between a rock and a hard place. You just do. Of course, not all of them fit in that category either.
But here's the very little that I know so far:
I know women who have had them, and I love these ladies dearly. I also know they don't like talking about it.
I know that abortion as "birth control" sounds extraordinarily drastic to me, purely from a rational perspective with very few emotions or moral platitudes involved.
I know it's been asserted here and there that doctors who perform abortions are pretty much seen as "bottom feeders." I would love to know more about why that is in a pro-abortion society and what makes a person choose that profession. My understanding so far, though, is that it's an opinion held by other doctors, as all doctors vow to "do no harm." That's actually something for me to look up. Do abortionists have to be doctors?
I know that there seems to be a massive dichotomy in the pro-life stance on fighting abortion. On the one hand, pro-lifers assert that abortion should be illegal. On the other hand, they also oppose many pro-choice programs that try to keep people from getting pregnant in the first place, like sex education (this includes, but is not limited to, abstinence), health care, and access to contraceptives. I have a glimmer of an opinion on all that, but I just realize I need to know more about the facts all around. Pro-lifers tend to be folks who think all that stuff should be less mainstream or, certainly, not pushed on single people. After all, single people shouldn't be having sex.
And about that. I know that recreational sex has become widely, rampantly acceptable to the point that it's almost no longer part of the argument. My issue here is quite complex, and I'll get into it another time, but sometimes something can be best, even (gasp!) right, even if it seems archaic. And it's weird to me how those having recreational sex without wanting a baby call getting pregnant an "accident." Really?! How do you figure? Did you or did you not have sex? All of us modern, free-thinking, strong-opinioned people would do ourselves a favor to look at it intelligently and call it what it is. "Accident" is not the word you're looking for. "Oops" doesn't quite cover this one.
I know that my tone in that last paragraph unsettled some people. I will say again that for those in a pickle, it's a big deal and my heart goes out to them. It's not easy. Please always hear my heart for people in all this.
I also know that people are not in a pickle because of some "tissue." A random mass of cells is not necessarily an inconvenience. A baby is. They're not trying to escape a tissue or mass of cells. They're trying to escape a baby. Where does the line get drawn? Oh, how I'm encountering various answers to that question. It's mind-boggling.
What a preliminary hodge-podge of thoughts this is! I hope to pass on my findings as I go, and with two little ones and music leadership and all of life's great fullness, I'm sure it will be somewhat slow going. I have been interested to find in three libraries here in Burlington-area, Vermont, that not one abortion book on file has a pro-life leaning. Fine with me, as I'm looking for real understanding. That does mean, however, that I do actually need some books of the pro-life leaning, so I get to request them of my libraries who will very soon carry them after all.
I am currently looking for the ones written by Norma McCorvey who was "Jane Roe" in the Roe v. Wade case. (She's now pro-life.) And what fun it'll be to read through the judges' official opinion statements on that case. Their ruling on the basis of privacy certainly calls me to want to know more, though, so I will.
And now for my final, burning questions: How does one get to the root of the problem? How does one meet that need so that abortion would not be "necessary," as many call it?
Every time I keep digging on issues and problems like this, I always come down to a root issue of humanity that can only be answered through the Kingdom of God, which is about relationship, nurturing, trust, responsibility, and knowing Yahweh. As I posted months ago about how politics is not the answer, I realize again that there is more than one battleground from which to approach such issues.
As I follow Yahweh's leading on this, I look forward to uncovering some interesting things that grieve Him but that we, or maybe just I, may have overlooked, on both sides of the issue. It's His heart I'm after.
Good thing I love libraries.
"abortion" Enter.
I get a thrill in libraries. So many possibilities. So much to learn. Sitting at the computer, casting a line, sorting through options, and making some big catches is always a worthwhile hunt. Not making a catch the first time through my search is just as invigorating. I hunker down and narrow in. I scribble down the cryptic call letters on the little scrap of paper until I'm ready to go on the next level of the hunt. This is so different than my book searches on Amazon. The air smells like pages and leather and ink. Rows of wood shelves full of real life books that I can touch, flip through, and examine stand tall and stately around me. I find my row, getting closer, then the general area, the 700s, the 750s, the 754s, the 754.29s. There they are. Trouble is, my growing thrill is being matched in magnitude by a growing forboding in my gut. What I'm after today is something I'm not sure I really want to find.
There's an assignment in my spirit that I have to pursue. I can't not do it. I'm doing research on abortion. Yuck. Does anyone on either side of the issue really want to really think about it? I think that's part of the problem, though, so I'm going to find out the facts and figure out the origins of it and of our current popular thought on the matter, as well as all the legal and constitutional implications. I say popular thought, but I'm not too sure on that either. Is abortion popular? I have a sneaking suspicion that if asked, not about the glossy labels like "choice" and "rights," but if asked about abortion, plain and simple, most people would say they prefer it didn't happen. Or in the case of pro-choice folks, they'd probably say they wish it didn't need to happen. Let's just put it this way: it's not pleasant.
I am pro-life. I like life. It's good. So I will try to chronicle my research experience and my findings themselves, but I do not intend to be a flaming, raging, argumentative, judgmental virago. There are plenty of those in the debate already. (That is, I won't be judgmental in the irrational, non-compassionate way; obviously, one must draw conclusions, or, make judgments.)
I want to know the history of abortion, the legal fight(s) for or against it in history, how it came to be what it is in popular opinion today, the basis for the Roe v. Wade case that made it legal (privacy, as it turns out; more on that to come), the exact biological process that results in a human being, and anything else that matters.
This much has come up for me. Out there in the Big Debate World, it's complicated. Very complicated. If you have an ounce of compassion, you hurt for women who find themselves between a rock and a hard place. You just do. Of course, not all of them fit in that category either.
But here's the very little that I know so far:
I know women who have had them, and I love these ladies dearly. I also know they don't like talking about it.
I know that abortion as "birth control" sounds extraordinarily drastic to me, purely from a rational perspective with very few emotions or moral platitudes involved.
I know it's been asserted here and there that doctors who perform abortions are pretty much seen as "bottom feeders." I would love to know more about why that is in a pro-abortion society and what makes a person choose that profession. My understanding so far, though, is that it's an opinion held by other doctors, as all doctors vow to "do no harm." That's actually something for me to look up. Do abortionists have to be doctors?
I know that there seems to be a massive dichotomy in the pro-life stance on fighting abortion. On the one hand, pro-lifers assert that abortion should be illegal. On the other hand, they also oppose many pro-choice programs that try to keep people from getting pregnant in the first place, like sex education (this includes, but is not limited to, abstinence), health care, and access to contraceptives. I have a glimmer of an opinion on all that, but I just realize I need to know more about the facts all around. Pro-lifers tend to be folks who think all that stuff should be less mainstream or, certainly, not pushed on single people. After all, single people shouldn't be having sex.
And about that. I know that recreational sex has become widely, rampantly acceptable to the point that it's almost no longer part of the argument. My issue here is quite complex, and I'll get into it another time, but sometimes something can be best, even (gasp!) right, even if it seems archaic. And it's weird to me how those having recreational sex without wanting a baby call getting pregnant an "accident." Really?! How do you figure? Did you or did you not have sex? All of us modern, free-thinking, strong-opinioned people would do ourselves a favor to look at it intelligently and call it what it is. "Accident" is not the word you're looking for. "Oops" doesn't quite cover this one.
I know that my tone in that last paragraph unsettled some people. I will say again that for those in a pickle, it's a big deal and my heart goes out to them. It's not easy. Please always hear my heart for people in all this.
I also know that people are not in a pickle because of some "tissue." A random mass of cells is not necessarily an inconvenience. A baby is. They're not trying to escape a tissue or mass of cells. They're trying to escape a baby. Where does the line get drawn? Oh, how I'm encountering various answers to that question. It's mind-boggling.
What a preliminary hodge-podge of thoughts this is! I hope to pass on my findings as I go, and with two little ones and music leadership and all of life's great fullness, I'm sure it will be somewhat slow going. I have been interested to find in three libraries here in Burlington-area, Vermont, that not one abortion book on file has a pro-life leaning. Fine with me, as I'm looking for real understanding. That does mean, however, that I do actually need some books of the pro-life leaning, so I get to request them of my libraries who will very soon carry them after all.
I am currently looking for the ones written by Norma McCorvey who was "Jane Roe" in the Roe v. Wade case. (She's now pro-life.) And what fun it'll be to read through the judges' official opinion statements on that case. Their ruling on the basis of privacy certainly calls me to want to know more, though, so I will.
And now for my final, burning questions: How does one get to the root of the problem? How does one meet that need so that abortion would not be "necessary," as many call it?
Every time I keep digging on issues and problems like this, I always come down to a root issue of humanity that can only be answered through the Kingdom of God, which is about relationship, nurturing, trust, responsibility, and knowing Yahweh. As I posted months ago about how politics is not the answer, I realize again that there is more than one battleground from which to approach such issues.
As I follow Yahweh's leading on this, I look forward to uncovering some interesting things that grieve Him but that we, or maybe just I, may have overlooked, on both sides of the issue. It's His heart I'm after.
Good thing I love libraries.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
The Voice in Levi's Head that Doesn't Worry Me
In this blog, I talk a lot about the Kingdom of God, and with little snippets here and there and somewhat out of context, I know I probably leave a lot of people confused or even maybe defensive, which is not my intent. I hope to address more in the weeks to come to give a more solid picture. One thing I know is that knowing God and having a relationship with Him is what it's all about. Nothing else can fully satisfy the spirit of man. That's what this post is about...
"Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute, Mommy. Please. I'm talking to Yahweh. (Pause) Oh, yeah, yeah, that's good, Yahweh! Mommy, He said that he does want me to save some for Daddy."
Levi's four. The one thing I want him to learn from me beyond anything else is that Yahweh talks and wants a relationship with us, that we can learn to hear His voice and follow His personal direction to us even beyond what we know from the Bible. The Bible won't tell Levi his purpose in life, whom to marry, or when a business deal could turn out badly (God is so practical--I love it.). If we know anything from the Bible, it's that the good book is chock full of stories about people who heard God.
Isn't there such a huge difference between knowing about someone versus knowing them?
I know Jed. No one can deny that. He's my husband. I have experienced him and continue to do so. I didn't just read his biography somewhere. If that were the case, our relationship would be missing a vital element. I wouldn't really know him...at all. But I do, and it would be absurd for someone to suggest to me that Jed doesn't exist.
It would be just as absurd if someone tried to tell me that God doesn't exist.
The reason I know, rather than just believe, is because I got really agitated in my youth about just believing. At some point, I became passionate about understanding Him and understanding my faith, and I knew that I'd heard His voice. Then I started hearing Him even more. He would answer specific questions through dreams, through random encounters with people (what I call divine appointments), through Bible verses, through anything He wanted.
It's His voice that has most shaped my adult life. When I read the Bible, it's not just the words, wisdom, and stories that I love. It's His voice reading to me between the lines. He tells me the pertinent revelation there and how it applies to my current situation, or I'll get entirely new understanding about a story I've read a million times or a Bible verse I'd memorized in childhood and thought I knew. I know many of you reading this can attest to the same thing in your lives, even if it's not been through the Bible. He created us, after all, to know Him, and I know many who have no faith but who've had an experience with something they can't attribute to anything else but His voice.
I'm so "over" hardened religion, or even just rote religion. I know that there are still habits that creep into my thinking, but I'm over it. I was over it 15 years ago, but the more I understand the Kingdom of God versus the philosophy of Christianity, I become more and more "over it" all over again.
He is what I want. Relationship was central to the Garden of Eden experience. That's what He wants, too. If I'm going to church and teaching good stories to my kids but not demonstrating a relationship with the real Person of our God, I'm doing them a disservice. I'm actually missing the point altogether and giving them a bunch of peripherals without their core. I'm giving them just one other option that they cerebrally can either choose to believe or choose not to believe.
But if I can teach them to hear His voice and truly experience His love and direction, that's something they can never deny.
So even when I know Levi is making up a conversation with Yahweh for some four-year-old reasons of his own, I couldn't be more pleased with his willingness to practice it, to be open in his little spirit to it, and for the times I've already seen that it wasn't made up.
Popular culture might raise its eyebrows at a little boy who "hears God." I chuckle inside and know that, one day, a generation who hears God is going to give popular culture a rather jolting kick in the butt. You better believe Levi's going to be one of them..."until the kingdoms of this world have become the Kingdom of our God and of His Christ." And what is the Kindgom, after all, but sons (and daughters) of God who know His voice? And something He wants to arrive "on earth, as it is in heaven?"
It might sound revolutionary, or maybe crazy? Until you go back to the beginning and realize it was the original idea. His idea. How'd we get so far away from it? We've created hundreds, if not thousands, of denominations that focus on a few core verses or doctrines, created division in the church, hit the mute button on the Creator of all things, and sufficiently tidied everything up into pleasant programs and plenty of quality entertainment in our services to make the message palatable to our culture. Not all of us, of course. But look around, Church. Are we happy with what we see?
How can we fix it? I know Someone who just might have the answer. And who's aching to tell us. We should ask Him. He still talks, you know.
"Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute, Mommy. Please. I'm talking to Yahweh. (Pause) Oh, yeah, yeah, that's good, Yahweh! Mommy, He said that he does want me to save some for Daddy."
Levi's four. The one thing I want him to learn from me beyond anything else is that Yahweh talks and wants a relationship with us, that we can learn to hear His voice and follow His personal direction to us even beyond what we know from the Bible. The Bible won't tell Levi his purpose in life, whom to marry, or when a business deal could turn out badly (God is so practical--I love it.). If we know anything from the Bible, it's that the good book is chock full of stories about people who heard God.
Isn't there such a huge difference between knowing about someone versus knowing them?
I know Jed. No one can deny that. He's my husband. I have experienced him and continue to do so. I didn't just read his biography somewhere. If that were the case, our relationship would be missing a vital element. I wouldn't really know him...at all. But I do, and it would be absurd for someone to suggest to me that Jed doesn't exist.
It would be just as absurd if someone tried to tell me that God doesn't exist.
The reason I know, rather than just believe, is because I got really agitated in my youth about just believing. At some point, I became passionate about understanding Him and understanding my faith, and I knew that I'd heard His voice. Then I started hearing Him even more. He would answer specific questions through dreams, through random encounters with people (what I call divine appointments), through Bible verses, through anything He wanted.
It's His voice that has most shaped my adult life. When I read the Bible, it's not just the words, wisdom, and stories that I love. It's His voice reading to me between the lines. He tells me the pertinent revelation there and how it applies to my current situation, or I'll get entirely new understanding about a story I've read a million times or a Bible verse I'd memorized in childhood and thought I knew. I know many of you reading this can attest to the same thing in your lives, even if it's not been through the Bible. He created us, after all, to know Him, and I know many who have no faith but who've had an experience with something they can't attribute to anything else but His voice.
I'm so "over" hardened religion, or even just rote religion. I know that there are still habits that creep into my thinking, but I'm over it. I was over it 15 years ago, but the more I understand the Kingdom of God versus the philosophy of Christianity, I become more and more "over it" all over again.
He is what I want. Relationship was central to the Garden of Eden experience. That's what He wants, too. If I'm going to church and teaching good stories to my kids but not demonstrating a relationship with the real Person of our God, I'm doing them a disservice. I'm actually missing the point altogether and giving them a bunch of peripherals without their core. I'm giving them just one other option that they cerebrally can either choose to believe or choose not to believe.
But if I can teach them to hear His voice and truly experience His love and direction, that's something they can never deny.
So even when I know Levi is making up a conversation with Yahweh for some four-year-old reasons of his own, I couldn't be more pleased with his willingness to practice it, to be open in his little spirit to it, and for the times I've already seen that it wasn't made up.
Popular culture might raise its eyebrows at a little boy who "hears God." I chuckle inside and know that, one day, a generation who hears God is going to give popular culture a rather jolting kick in the butt. You better believe Levi's going to be one of them..."until the kingdoms of this world have become the Kingdom of our God and of His Christ." And what is the Kindgom, after all, but sons (and daughters) of God who know His voice? And something He wants to arrive "on earth, as it is in heaven?"
It might sound revolutionary, or maybe crazy? Until you go back to the beginning and realize it was the original idea. His idea. How'd we get so far away from it? We've created hundreds, if not thousands, of denominations that focus on a few core verses or doctrines, created division in the church, hit the mute button on the Creator of all things, and sufficiently tidied everything up into pleasant programs and plenty of quality entertainment in our services to make the message palatable to our culture. Not all of us, of course. But look around, Church. Are we happy with what we see?
How can we fix it? I know Someone who just might have the answer. And who's aching to tell us. We should ask Him. He still talks, you know.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Stuck in a Rut?
Winter begins to melt, and melt some more, the rivers rise, the roads host little streams down either side, and the ground remains in a perpetual state of "soggy." It's mud season in Vermont.
I drove to my friend's house today, and she lives off the beaten path, and rather on a path that is pretty beaten up. A bumpy dirt road that's been frozen and remolded, then thawed out, leads to her equally rugged and long driveway to the top of the hill where her house sits. What was an icy Slip 'n' Slide with walls of snow on either side a few weeks ago has given way to the boggy, nasty lane I drove this afternoon. The few residents who travel this road have already created two tire tracks that sink low and hold dirty, brown water. My car immediately found the tracks and splashed along. I accelerated to keep up a good speed, fast enough to, hopefully, not get stuck, but not so fast that I would go careening off into the woods.
But I saw a spot up ahead where the ruts looked deeper, so I accelerated a bit more and gave my steering wheel a slight jerk to get my tires to jump out before I reached the spot. No go. Not only were the ruts deep enough to hold my tires in, but they had that special suction only mud has, a little extra insurance to keep us in line. Fortunately, I made it through anyway, but the wheels in my mind were spinning, too.
We modern types who don't drive wagons anymore also don't encounter many ruts on all the smooth pavement we have at our disposal. With my encounter today, I thought, "Man, I'm stuck in this rut," and I got new revelation on that colloquialism we all use without much thought. While in that rut, I was forced to stay on a path I didn't necessarily like, but getting out was going to take some serious effort. It had a hold on me.
Suddenly, the metaphor I've used in passing became much more vivid. Ruts are awful! I realized that the same focus and flat-out tenacity it would take for me to get out of those suction-cup mud ruts I traveled today would be required to get out of any other life ruts into which I might have fallen over time.
We don't just decide to get out of ruts and then watch it happen. Complaining about the rut doesn't get us out. Getting mad about the rut doesn't get us out. Staring at what's wrong and calling it wrong won't make it turn into right. And making a half-way sort of effort will definitely not cut it. After all that drama and emotional toil, the rut's still there, and we're still in it.
No, we must decide and then get to work. There is no trouble known to man that our High Priest Yahshua didn't encounter and overcome. And He made way for us to have the same Holy Spirit that indwelled Him when He walked the earth. Surely that, or He, as the case may be, can help us out of a rut! So we are not without recourse. But we (not He, but we) have to be pretty unilaterally focused and stubborn. We might have to enlist the help of others. And we must know that we, we who have the very presence of God indwelling us, do, after all, have the upperhand over that rut. So the decision remains:
Stay in the rut where we don't want to be but also don't really have to apply ourselves, or buck up in the power of His Spirit and pull. ourselves.
Out.
I drove to my friend's house today, and she lives off the beaten path, and rather on a path that is pretty beaten up. A bumpy dirt road that's been frozen and remolded, then thawed out, leads to her equally rugged and long driveway to the top of the hill where her house sits. What was an icy Slip 'n' Slide with walls of snow on either side a few weeks ago has given way to the boggy, nasty lane I drove this afternoon. The few residents who travel this road have already created two tire tracks that sink low and hold dirty, brown water. My car immediately found the tracks and splashed along. I accelerated to keep up a good speed, fast enough to, hopefully, not get stuck, but not so fast that I would go careening off into the woods.
But I saw a spot up ahead where the ruts looked deeper, so I accelerated a bit more and gave my steering wheel a slight jerk to get my tires to jump out before I reached the spot. No go. Not only were the ruts deep enough to hold my tires in, but they had that special suction only mud has, a little extra insurance to keep us in line. Fortunately, I made it through anyway, but the wheels in my mind were spinning, too.
We modern types who don't drive wagons anymore also don't encounter many ruts on all the smooth pavement we have at our disposal. With my encounter today, I thought, "Man, I'm stuck in this rut," and I got new revelation on that colloquialism we all use without much thought. While in that rut, I was forced to stay on a path I didn't necessarily like, but getting out was going to take some serious effort. It had a hold on me.
Suddenly, the metaphor I've used in passing became much more vivid. Ruts are awful! I realized that the same focus and flat-out tenacity it would take for me to get out of those suction-cup mud ruts I traveled today would be required to get out of any other life ruts into which I might have fallen over time.
We don't just decide to get out of ruts and then watch it happen. Complaining about the rut doesn't get us out. Getting mad about the rut doesn't get us out. Staring at what's wrong and calling it wrong won't make it turn into right. And making a half-way sort of effort will definitely not cut it. After all that drama and emotional toil, the rut's still there, and we're still in it.
No, we must decide and then get to work. There is no trouble known to man that our High Priest Yahshua didn't encounter and overcome. And He made way for us to have the same Holy Spirit that indwelled Him when He walked the earth. Surely that, or He, as the case may be, can help us out of a rut! So we are not without recourse. But we (not He, but we) have to be pretty unilaterally focused and stubborn. We might have to enlist the help of others. And we must know that we, we who have the very presence of God indwelling us, do, after all, have the upperhand over that rut. So the decision remains:
Stay in the rut where we don't want to be but also don't really have to apply ourselves, or buck up in the power of His Spirit and pull. ourselves.
Out.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Streamlining and a Childlike Faith
(Service Recap, sort of. :) Friday, January 21, 2011, Apostle Ainsworth, The Rock of Greater Burlington)
(OK, I wrote this on January 22 and have been trying to fix our scanner to add accompanying photos...Scanner issues continue, so I'm just posting...a bit delayed.)
I would sit perched up high on the middle console of my grandparents' Ford Bronco II as we made our way from the green trees and farmland of East Texas, across the vast expanse of desert and oil rigs of West Texas, through the rising plateaus and cacti of New Mexico, and finally into the majestic Rocky Mountains of Colorado. Sitting up high, eight years old (no seatbelt, I shudder to think!), my rugged grandaddy to my left, smirking as he teased my grandmother, I watched somewhat mesmerized as my grandmother would quietly remove all her rings and put them in a special pouch. She used her drugstore travel-size lotion that smelled flowery and a bit medicinal, then put it back in her bag and replaced each ring to its rightful place on her freckled, wrinkled hands: the wedding ring and the ring with the birthstones of her four children stood out to me most. They were beautiful and mysterious to me.
Every detail shouted at me in those innocent, exploring years of my childhood when all my carnal needs of food, clothing, and shelter were met for me. All of nature sang and was radiant with beauty or danger or adventure, and it truly was like life's elixir as I drank it all in, feeling privileged and excited.
Fast forward past a few tumultuous college-aged years to when Jed and I got married. I had begun to realize that I needed to settle down and live a more productive, consistent, grown-up life, and (if any engaged girl has felt it, we all surely have) I thought that what I most needed was to collect all the necessary items for keeping a home. But not just for keeping it...I needed to register for and pursue the acquisition of various odd home gadgets that I could pull out when we had formal gatherings for Flag Day or whatever sophisticated evenings we would immediately commence hosting. It was a pipe dream, the fantasy sold to us all when we walk into those stores, laser-gun-tagging thing in hand.
But the fantasy gave way, or, well, it actually never showed up. Seventeen months ago, at seven years of marriage and collecting things, we moved from a 2000-square-foot house with tons of storage space into a much smaller townhouse with very, very little storage space. Then we got pregnant and began preparing for our new bundle of joy. Our lovely, small-ish townhouse has been the greatest thing. I was forced to evaluate, to create space, to make room for new. I began looking at the soup urn with matching ladle and wide soup bowls and thinking, "You are lovely, but I've never used you. Not once. It's time for you to go." I went through every room and realized that all these things I'd worked to collect, that had some sort of emotional meaning to me, really were useless or in my way. I had to make some hard decisions and part with things that held my affections, right or wrong. But with every truckload that Jed hauled off to Goodwill or the dump, and yes, I said "truckload," coupled with "every," which means there was more than one, I had this giddy sense of elation.
Even so, it turns out that organization is not the strongest trait in the Finley household. The funny thing is, when we figured this out, I laughed and told Jed how I was so uber-organized as a kid and young adult. He then laughed and said he was the same way. I think maybe stuff and life kept coming at us and we forgot to adapt and change to meet each new challenge or season. We just kept doing what we'd been doing and letting new commitments, new goals, new kids, new gadgets, new whatever fill up our lives without stepping back to rearrange along the way to create space for the new whatevers that came along.
Moreover, we know that our calling and the calling of our church house up here in Vermont is one of pioneering, forging into unsettled territory that belongs to the Body of Christ, to His church who is meant to be awesome in the earth. Pioneers travel light. There must be something refreshing about packing into one vehicle all the most basic necessities you need and driving away from all the extraneous fluff you never did need. As my apostle has said, "You can't fit Grandma's armoire in the back of a covered wagon."
We have had to continue streamlining, because new stuff keeps coming through the front door (toys, anyone??). And now we're in a season where Yahweh is teaching us how to organize the life we're in now, rather than winging it based on the tenets that worked for us a decade ago. For the most part, if it's not expedient, it goes. You would laugh if you walked in my door right after reading that statement. Levi's little artistic creations hang on the refrigerator, and I have more than one unnecessary decorative item on a shelf or on the wall. Those things aren't clutter, though I still must fight that nasty invader. So it's a work in progress.
With all the externals, we are also taking opportunity between us and Yahweh to streamline in the spirit as well, for this is obviously the more important of the two. What are the thought patterns, the emotional responses, the habits, the lies we've inadvertently chosen to believe about ourselves that must go? Like cleaning out a cluttered closet, we just face what's there and address it, and when the junk is removed and the good stuff is accessible again, there is tremendous relief and satisfaction. Wow, I hadn't even thought of that until I just wrote it: "When the good stuff is accessible again." Sometimes even if the good stuff's there, you can't get to it and it's frustrating, because you're having a hard time managing all the extra junk that turns out, after all, to be a giant waste of time.
Our apostle preached about streamlining Friday night, January 21st, and it's been a process for us for about a year now. But the anointing of the service, coupled with the decisions I was making before Yahweh as he preached, left me feeling rejuvenated, ready to part with so much that tried to distract me. I walked outside to start the car, fully aware of what matters and what doesn't, my mind crystal clear and open. The air was still and silent with a shocking chill. It was so cold that the snow underfoot was not slushy but dry and crunchy. As I watched my breath billow out ahead of me, I slowed my quick and hunkered pace and lifted up my head. I noticed the mounds of snow that were perfectly white and contoured. They sparkled in the soft glow cast from the moon and I thought, "My gosh, I live in a gorgeous land!" I could barely make out the black silhouette of the mountains in the night-darkened distance, but I could still make them out. The oxymoron "thunderous silence" came to mind just before I reached the front doors to go back inside.
It reminded me of my trips to Colorado as a child with my grandparents and how my mind was free to experience the grandeur, to philosophize, to hear my God speak to me. As it turns out, I still don't have to worry about food, clothing, and shelter. He tells me He'll take care of those things. It's all those compulsory extras... What a revolution would it be if a people began to rise, a people who did think differently, who did choose differently, who did live differently? Not being weird, certainly not for weirdness' sake, but drawing a line in the sand in their own lives that made others take a second glance and wonder, "What's that all about? What is this family that isn't guided by status quo or the going trend in pop culture?"
It's my choice to get the best out of life and be the daughter of the Most High I was created to be, rather than allowing life to get the best of me and squelch the power of His presence to move effectively in me, and whatever I have to change or learn to get there, I will do before my God. Is it easy? For some reason, it's not always easy. But for that faith like a child and the clear perspective of my Father, I'm all about it.
(OK, I wrote this on January 22 and have been trying to fix our scanner to add accompanying photos...Scanner issues continue, so I'm just posting...a bit delayed.)
I would sit perched up high on the middle console of my grandparents' Ford Bronco II as we made our way from the green trees and farmland of East Texas, across the vast expanse of desert and oil rigs of West Texas, through the rising plateaus and cacti of New Mexico, and finally into the majestic Rocky Mountains of Colorado. Sitting up high, eight years old (no seatbelt, I shudder to think!), my rugged grandaddy to my left, smirking as he teased my grandmother, I watched somewhat mesmerized as my grandmother would quietly remove all her rings and put them in a special pouch. She used her drugstore travel-size lotion that smelled flowery and a bit medicinal, then put it back in her bag and replaced each ring to its rightful place on her freckled, wrinkled hands: the wedding ring and the ring with the birthstones of her four children stood out to me most. They were beautiful and mysterious to me.
Every detail shouted at me in those innocent, exploring years of my childhood when all my carnal needs of food, clothing, and shelter were met for me. All of nature sang and was radiant with beauty or danger or adventure, and it truly was like life's elixir as I drank it all in, feeling privileged and excited.
Fast forward past a few tumultuous college-aged years to when Jed and I got married. I had begun to realize that I needed to settle down and live a more productive, consistent, grown-up life, and (if any engaged girl has felt it, we all surely have) I thought that what I most needed was to collect all the necessary items for keeping a home. But not just for keeping it...I needed to register for and pursue the acquisition of various odd home gadgets that I could pull out when we had formal gatherings for Flag Day or whatever sophisticated evenings we would immediately commence hosting. It was a pipe dream, the fantasy sold to us all when we walk into those stores, laser-gun-tagging thing in hand.
But the fantasy gave way, or, well, it actually never showed up. Seventeen months ago, at seven years of marriage and collecting things, we moved from a 2000-square-foot house with tons of storage space into a much smaller townhouse with very, very little storage space. Then we got pregnant and began preparing for our new bundle of joy. Our lovely, small-ish townhouse has been the greatest thing. I was forced to evaluate, to create space, to make room for new. I began looking at the soup urn with matching ladle and wide soup bowls and thinking, "You are lovely, but I've never used you. Not once. It's time for you to go." I went through every room and realized that all these things I'd worked to collect, that had some sort of emotional meaning to me, really were useless or in my way. I had to make some hard decisions and part with things that held my affections, right or wrong. But with every truckload that Jed hauled off to Goodwill or the dump, and yes, I said "truckload," coupled with "every," which means there was more than one, I had this giddy sense of elation.
Even so, it turns out that organization is not the strongest trait in the Finley household. The funny thing is, when we figured this out, I laughed and told Jed how I was so uber-organized as a kid and young adult. He then laughed and said he was the same way. I think maybe stuff and life kept coming at us and we forgot to adapt and change to meet each new challenge or season. We just kept doing what we'd been doing and letting new commitments, new goals, new kids, new gadgets, new whatever fill up our lives without stepping back to rearrange along the way to create space for the new whatevers that came along.
Moreover, we know that our calling and the calling of our church house up here in Vermont is one of pioneering, forging into unsettled territory that belongs to the Body of Christ, to His church who is meant to be awesome in the earth. Pioneers travel light. There must be something refreshing about packing into one vehicle all the most basic necessities you need and driving away from all the extraneous fluff you never did need. As my apostle has said, "You can't fit Grandma's armoire in the back of a covered wagon."
We have had to continue streamlining, because new stuff keeps coming through the front door (toys, anyone??). And now we're in a season where Yahweh is teaching us how to organize the life we're in now, rather than winging it based on the tenets that worked for us a decade ago. For the most part, if it's not expedient, it goes. You would laugh if you walked in my door right after reading that statement. Levi's little artistic creations hang on the refrigerator, and I have more than one unnecessary decorative item on a shelf or on the wall. Those things aren't clutter, though I still must fight that nasty invader. So it's a work in progress.
With all the externals, we are also taking opportunity between us and Yahweh to streamline in the spirit as well, for this is obviously the more important of the two. What are the thought patterns, the emotional responses, the habits, the lies we've inadvertently chosen to believe about ourselves that must go? Like cleaning out a cluttered closet, we just face what's there and address it, and when the junk is removed and the good stuff is accessible again, there is tremendous relief and satisfaction. Wow, I hadn't even thought of that until I just wrote it: "When the good stuff is accessible again." Sometimes even if the good stuff's there, you can't get to it and it's frustrating, because you're having a hard time managing all the extra junk that turns out, after all, to be a giant waste of time.
Our apostle preached about streamlining Friday night, January 21st, and it's been a process for us for about a year now. But the anointing of the service, coupled with the decisions I was making before Yahweh as he preached, left me feeling rejuvenated, ready to part with so much that tried to distract me. I walked outside to start the car, fully aware of what matters and what doesn't, my mind crystal clear and open. The air was still and silent with a shocking chill. It was so cold that the snow underfoot was not slushy but dry and crunchy. As I watched my breath billow out ahead of me, I slowed my quick and hunkered pace and lifted up my head. I noticed the mounds of snow that were perfectly white and contoured. They sparkled in the soft glow cast from the moon and I thought, "My gosh, I live in a gorgeous land!" I could barely make out the black silhouette of the mountains in the night-darkened distance, but I could still make them out. The oxymoron "thunderous silence" came to mind just before I reached the front doors to go back inside.
It reminded me of my trips to Colorado as a child with my grandparents and how my mind was free to experience the grandeur, to philosophize, to hear my God speak to me. As it turns out, I still don't have to worry about food, clothing, and shelter. He tells me He'll take care of those things. It's all those compulsory extras... What a revolution would it be if a people began to rise, a people who did think differently, who did choose differently, who did live differently? Not being weird, certainly not for weirdness' sake, but drawing a line in the sand in their own lives that made others take a second glance and wonder, "What's that all about? What is this family that isn't guided by status quo or the going trend in pop culture?"
It's my choice to get the best out of life and be the daughter of the Most High I was created to be, rather than allowing life to get the best of me and squelch the power of His presence to move effectively in me, and whatever I have to change or learn to get there, I will do before my God. Is it easy? For some reason, it's not always easy. But for that faith like a child and the clear perspective of my Father, I'm all about it.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
It Wasn't Me. It Was Jesus.
Ah, where have I been hiding? I just checked this blog to see what I'd been up to and found a big blank nothing staring back at me! I haven't posted since 2010 for Pete's sake? (Who is this Pete, anyway?)
I have written a post, I promise, but I need to scan in accompanying pictures, and we're settling some scanner issues, so it will be forthcoming. (It finally appeared...here it is, with no pictures, but we're moving on!)
To give you a preview, I'll tell you the big reason for my absence. We are streamlining. Habits, closets, thought processes, relationships, Facebook accounts, time management...everything goes on the chopping block for evaluation. We are being the protagonists of our own change. Since change is, after all, inevitable, we're grabbing the ol' bull by the horns, as it were, and being ruthless, decisive, bold. We're making some changes in our family, going with the current tides that are ebbing and flowing in our spirits, and it's rather exciting to embrace change rather than run from it.
It's cool, because this is a directive from Yahweh as a point of training and maturing, but it's a touch different than similar directives in the past. He is guiding us by His spirit, but He's leaving a lot of the final decision-making...to us...in areas where we would've waited for Him to declare something specific. We are indeed His sons and daughters in the earth and are therefore acting on His behalf, representing Him to everyone and being called on to manage creation.
How cool is it that when He created everything, Yahweh told Adam to name the animals? That is so cool! He created them but didn't name them. He left it to Adam. When Adam said, "That'll be an elephant" (in his own tongue), Yahweh said, "OK, son." Right now, we're putting everything on the chopping block, and I can feel the Father watching and saying, "What will you choose about this one?" It's the coolest thing!
We laugh sometimes about people doing something great and, out of a genuine heart of love for Christ, a desire to be humble, and surely a slight lack of understanding, they say, "Oh, it wasn't me. It was Jesus." Of course it was you! Jesus didn't come down and pitch a no hitter; you did it! Maybe your faith in Him gave you the courage or confidence or whatever to train hard and get to that place, but you did it! When the animals were named, Adam did it.
So right now we're enjoying the authority and position that the Father's given us, and we're deciding how we want things to look, to be. Therefore, I've not written quite so much lately, but I'm sort of itching to get back at it. I could pass the buck on my lack of writing and say, "It wasn't me. It was Jesus! He's been helping us streamline!" But that's a lie. Though He is absolutely helping, the truth is, it was none but I.
I have written a post, I promise, but I need to scan in accompanying pictures, and we're settling some scanner issues, so it will be forthcoming. (It finally appeared...here it is, with no pictures, but we're moving on!)
To give you a preview, I'll tell you the big reason for my absence. We are streamlining. Habits, closets, thought processes, relationships, Facebook accounts, time management...everything goes on the chopping block for evaluation. We are being the protagonists of our own change. Since change is, after all, inevitable, we're grabbing the ol' bull by the horns, as it were, and being ruthless, decisive, bold. We're making some changes in our family, going with the current tides that are ebbing and flowing in our spirits, and it's rather exciting to embrace change rather than run from it.
It's cool, because this is a directive from Yahweh as a point of training and maturing, but it's a touch different than similar directives in the past. He is guiding us by His spirit, but He's leaving a lot of the final decision-making...to us...in areas where we would've waited for Him to declare something specific. We are indeed His sons and daughters in the earth and are therefore acting on His behalf, representing Him to everyone and being called on to manage creation.
How cool is it that when He created everything, Yahweh told Adam to name the animals? That is so cool! He created them but didn't name them. He left it to Adam. When Adam said, "That'll be an elephant" (in his own tongue), Yahweh said, "OK, son." Right now, we're putting everything on the chopping block, and I can feel the Father watching and saying, "What will you choose about this one?" It's the coolest thing!
We laugh sometimes about people doing something great and, out of a genuine heart of love for Christ, a desire to be humble, and surely a slight lack of understanding, they say, "Oh, it wasn't me. It was Jesus." Of course it was you! Jesus didn't come down and pitch a no hitter; you did it! Maybe your faith in Him gave you the courage or confidence or whatever to train hard and get to that place, but you did it! When the animals were named, Adam did it.
So right now we're enjoying the authority and position that the Father's given us, and we're deciding how we want things to look, to be. Therefore, I've not written quite so much lately, but I'm sort of itching to get back at it. I could pass the buck on my lack of writing and say, "It wasn't me. It was Jesus! He's been helping us streamline!" But that's a lie. Though He is absolutely helping, the truth is, it was none but I.
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