Home is one of the fullest words in the English language. It gushes meaning and emotions. It wraps us up like our favorite blanket some moment and makes us so lonely and hollow the next moment that we are afraid to touch it. Home is.... well fill in the blank with the latest cliche'. Home is something that everyone desires, everyone has, and no one has.
Home is ultimately the core of our souls that needs filling- and fullness is literally heaven.
I hope for home. Pray for home. Have joy for the moments of home... and try to create home.
sigh. I believe that perpetual feeling "at home" is possible, but just as much (and we long just as hard) as for that Kingdom of Heaven on Earth.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Experiment
I'm about to do something crazy! Our monitor is on the fritz- baby is napping. And I'm going to take a shower. No hearing. No knowledge of the wakefulness of baby. Kind of like a sky-diving trip- right?
Ok it's not that crazy, but I'm trying to blog more frequently in an effort to "just keep writing anything." You know- pursue dreams and junk like that.
I'll let you know how it goes (the shower experiment, you'll find out sooner or later if my dreams come true... buy anything with Sarah Snow on it ; )).
Ok it's not that crazy, but I'm trying to blog more frequently in an effort to "just keep writing anything." You know- pursue dreams and junk like that.
I'll let you know how it goes (the shower experiment, you'll find out sooner or later if my dreams come true... buy anything with Sarah Snow on it ; )).
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The Edges
Experiment- I'm writing sitting on the bed while Hunter is in the exersaucer throwing books over the edge. We'll see how long this lasts...
The edges- thanks to Barbara Brown Taylor (look her up and read her) I have a metaphor and an ally for the place I reside. In Leaving Church, BBT describes a map of the Christian life (and not in the cheesy pathway perspective). She looks at the map as a whole - one giant picture of the landscape of Christian life- and in the center is Mother Church. Mother Church nurtures and protects, comforts and reassures. Mother Church is the hub and the safe place. There is a price to pay to stay at the center, though. Your questions cannot be too inquisitive and your actions not too shaky. Mother Church rests on a firm foundation of tradition and community, and you must pay the price to preserve it- for the good of all. Outside the doors of Mother Earth is the outside, the fringe, all the way to the edges of the map. These places are outside the comfort, community, and most of all, the protection of the church. In fact- once you find yourself outside the walls of Mother Church, you may find yourself to be the one that she protects her children from. You are in the wilderness and it is a scary place, a sketchy community, and things might eat you. And your Mom's cell phone isn't working.
This is where I have been for over 5 years. Like BBT- I love Mother Church- I have been fed and nurtured by her, I have grown under her care and I have even had the privilege to feed others while under her tutelage. Somehow I got lost and found myself on the edges of the map- longing for Mother Church- but until now I didn't think about the fact that the edge is just what I needed. I thought the edge was a banishment- now I'm trying to think of it as a Spiritual hideout. The problem with this metaphor (and really it's not BBT's problem) is that for one- it's true- and that means that Mother Church does not do wilderness excursions. Usually. Maybe it's impossible, but let me explain.
The last time I felt certain of the presence of God in my daily life was ... Auburn circa 2000. I was attending Auburn First Baptist Church- the best Mother Church I've had the privilege of being a part of (in terms of being fed). I grew and ate til I was full. Then, I had a wilderness guide and partner in my friend Cliff. I learned more about God through conversations with him and his perspective as a pagan than I did in any bible study. Then I had my field guide, someone who was gifted enough to have the keys to the Church and know the paths to the edges and back- Alica. This was fullness. This was my cake and eating it too. Now I have been banned to the edge with no partner, kicked out of the Church with no key, and lost with no guide.
Is this the edge of the edge? Must I now learn to make a fire and find God? How do I use this metaphor to transform my understanding of my daily, mundane life? Is it really possible for me to survive in the wilderness when I love and need Mother Church so much? BBT's metaphor speaks especially to me as she reflects on her leadership and role in the Church- how she couldn't do certain things or say certain things because of her power and place. I was no pastor- but I was on staff, I am a pastor's wife.
thoughts to ponder...
The edges- thanks to Barbara Brown Taylor (look her up and read her) I have a metaphor and an ally for the place I reside. In Leaving Church, BBT describes a map of the Christian life (and not in the cheesy pathway perspective). She looks at the map as a whole - one giant picture of the landscape of Christian life- and in the center is Mother Church. Mother Church nurtures and protects, comforts and reassures. Mother Church is the hub and the safe place. There is a price to pay to stay at the center, though. Your questions cannot be too inquisitive and your actions not too shaky. Mother Church rests on a firm foundation of tradition and community, and you must pay the price to preserve it- for the good of all. Outside the doors of Mother Earth is the outside, the fringe, all the way to the edges of the map. These places are outside the comfort, community, and most of all, the protection of the church. In fact- once you find yourself outside the walls of Mother Church, you may find yourself to be the one that she protects her children from. You are in the wilderness and it is a scary place, a sketchy community, and things might eat you. And your Mom's cell phone isn't working.
This is where I have been for over 5 years. Like BBT- I love Mother Church- I have been fed and nurtured by her, I have grown under her care and I have even had the privilege to feed others while under her tutelage. Somehow I got lost and found myself on the edges of the map- longing for Mother Church- but until now I didn't think about the fact that the edge is just what I needed. I thought the edge was a banishment- now I'm trying to think of it as a Spiritual hideout. The problem with this metaphor (and really it's not BBT's problem) is that for one- it's true- and that means that Mother Church does not do wilderness excursions. Usually. Maybe it's impossible, but let me explain.
The last time I felt certain of the presence of God in my daily life was ... Auburn circa 2000. I was attending Auburn First Baptist Church- the best Mother Church I've had the privilege of being a part of (in terms of being fed). I grew and ate til I was full. Then, I had a wilderness guide and partner in my friend Cliff. I learned more about God through conversations with him and his perspective as a pagan than I did in any bible study. Then I had my field guide, someone who was gifted enough to have the keys to the Church and know the paths to the edges and back- Alica. This was fullness. This was my cake and eating it too. Now I have been banned to the edge with no partner, kicked out of the Church with no key, and lost with no guide.
Is this the edge of the edge? Must I now learn to make a fire and find God? How do I use this metaphor to transform my understanding of my daily, mundane life? Is it really possible for me to survive in the wilderness when I love and need Mother Church so much? BBT's metaphor speaks especially to me as she reflects on her leadership and role in the Church- how she couldn't do certain things or say certain things because of her power and place. I was no pastor- but I was on staff, I am a pastor's wife.
thoughts to ponder...
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Outsider
This blog is once again written on borrowed time (Hunter is napping). I had a discussion with my husband last night- and among other things I somehow came to the ultimate conclusion that I don't fit in this world. Before everyone tells me how loved I am- that is not what I'm talking about.
I'm talking about the American Dream and how I really hate it. The American dream is the idea that if you work hard enough and perservere- you can accomplish anything- and the sacrifices and toil that lead to success are praiseworthy and bring integrity and prestige. In my words: workaholics and smoozers are our kings and queens. I think at one point the idea of being able to accomplish what seemed impossible was a wonderful thing. I don't knock that. My problem is the pace and intensity with which the expectation to follow the American Dream has come into play. No one is ever satisfied. Joy has been sucked out of living. Doing and achieving are the new moral norms of goodness. Success = goodness.
I am the kind of person who would like to measure her time by hours and days. In our culture, people measure time by minutes and seconds. I cannot live in seconds. I cannot have joy in seconds. And yet, in order to survive, in order to have even enough success to live above the poverty line (unless of course, you were screwed from the beginning), you have to race in seconds.
Even if you're lucky and you do what you love or have a working environment that respects boundaries, time, etc.- it is still the honorable thing to be told to go home. It still has been ingrained in us to feel guilty to ask for a day off. It is still a power over someone else if you're the one working overtime or achieving overtime. These ideas are all so so so SO normal to everyone else but me.
And this is why I feel like I don't fit. I want to water plants and measure their growths in days and weeks. I want to develop relationships and cultivate a craft and meaure my growth in joy and shared sorrow. But I won't get paid and I won't get ahead and I need to have a clean house and a fit body before I can have time for joy.
I need Sabbath, and I'm starting to realize that people around me don't understand the concept, much less think they need it. In the American culture- Sabbath is for weak people. Sabbath is a pause to get energy to do it all again. We are made to be productive.... and in that undertanding- I feel like a failure. I have to remind myself again and again that it just might be possible that I'm not. It just might be possible that God works in months and years, and I'm too fast.
I'm talking about the American Dream and how I really hate it. The American dream is the idea that if you work hard enough and perservere- you can accomplish anything- and the sacrifices and toil that lead to success are praiseworthy and bring integrity and prestige. In my words: workaholics and smoozers are our kings and queens. I think at one point the idea of being able to accomplish what seemed impossible was a wonderful thing. I don't knock that. My problem is the pace and intensity with which the expectation to follow the American Dream has come into play. No one is ever satisfied. Joy has been sucked out of living. Doing and achieving are the new moral norms of goodness. Success = goodness.
I am the kind of person who would like to measure her time by hours and days. In our culture, people measure time by minutes and seconds. I cannot live in seconds. I cannot have joy in seconds. And yet, in order to survive, in order to have even enough success to live above the poverty line (unless of course, you were screwed from the beginning), you have to race in seconds.
Even if you're lucky and you do what you love or have a working environment that respects boundaries, time, etc.- it is still the honorable thing to be told to go home. It still has been ingrained in us to feel guilty to ask for a day off. It is still a power over someone else if you're the one working overtime or achieving overtime. These ideas are all so so so SO normal to everyone else but me.
And this is why I feel like I don't fit. I want to water plants and measure their growths in days and weeks. I want to develop relationships and cultivate a craft and meaure my growth in joy and shared sorrow. But I won't get paid and I won't get ahead and I need to have a clean house and a fit body before I can have time for joy.
I need Sabbath, and I'm starting to realize that people around me don't understand the concept, much less think they need it. In the American culture- Sabbath is for weak people. Sabbath is a pause to get energy to do it all again. We are made to be productive.... and in that undertanding- I feel like a failure. I have to remind myself again and again that it just might be possible that I'm not. It just might be possible that God works in months and years, and I'm too fast.
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