Category Archives: life

Commas, Maybe?

Posted in life, words by

The silence from this corner is not because I’m bored, or depressed, or too busy. Things tumble  about in my head, but they don’t need to see daylight yet.

This is a period where

It feels like

everything I

say

or write

must not end

with a

.

but with a

,

or

?

The words I have declared now feel

less sure.

The sacred and beautiful things

are still all of that,

but I feel I can say nothing,

write nothing,

except to end it with a

question or disclaimer or comma.

A few things I know.

They are great, glad statements that arch over the questions. These things I know and they have no question marks.

I think everything else is sand.

Shifting.

Ending in a comma because each new thing adds to the

sequence.

Each orbit of the sun reveals a new

aspect to acknowledge.

Each bit of truth adds

understanding

so that I can

never

be wholly sure of what I’ve seen.

I can’t see myself completely ,

never mind someone else

or my surroundings.

It means living with an open hand,

not clenching anything in my fist,

not refusing new things.

Being sure only of my God

in whose hand I am,

and only His words are

final.

Deepest Fears Spill Out

Posted in life, words by

For a long time, I’ve promoted the act/discipline/therapy of journaling. Life journals, and particularly thanks journals. Because I maintain that getting something out, something that’s churning inside you, isn’t as big or scary or impossible when it’s  outside of you and you can look at it and see it for what it is.

This was confirmed recently when talking with a friend who had gone through a debilitating mental breakdown. In the process of healing, which included the strong support of her family, and a Christian counsellor, she said with a little grimace, “And I had to write alot.”  It was obvious that the therapy helped, and she admitted it even though it hadn’t been fun at the time.

Not everyone can write easily or well, but in a journal, that doesn’t matter. You should still write. Even in single words punctuated by dashes and not complete sentences and paragraphs, if that makes it easier for you.

Not long ago, I was processing some issues by journalling. There were things roiling inside me, and I wasn’t able to verbalize them, let alone make sense of them, but suddenly, as I wrote,  my current deepest fears went spilling on onto the page, and then I thought “That’s it! That’s what’s bothering me.” I felt so relieved to have a name for it.

Sometimes the truth of the words doesn’t compute with me until I re-read them a week later. But often it happens as they tumble out. You hear yourself say it, it’s a form of self-talk, and it helps. A lot.

Try it!

And no, you didn’t really think I was going to tell the cyber world about my deepest fears, did you?

Joy Like Swords

Posted in books, life, recommendations, words by

I read these assorted words this week, on a theme I keep bumping into:

The Lord our God is One and in Him, all the fragments of life are woven into one piece. In Christ, we’re aren’t ever torn. In Him, all brokenness is made whole, all moments are made holy, all pieces are made one.   —Ann Voskamp

Why must we always insist that the destination is the most important measure of success? We put so many worry hours into our future only to discover that it keeps changing.

My years pursuing and practicing the job of sign language interpreting were not wasted. They brought with them necessary gifts for my life: the gift of listening for the purpose of understanding, the gift of learning how to do the work, the gift of becoming comfortable in my own skin.

That season prepared me for this one. But at the time, I was sure that season was all there would ever be. I was sure I would be a sign language interpreter for the rest of my life.

What you are doing now may not be what you’ll be doing this time next year. Those things you care so deeply for now may seem small a month from now. Might I boldly suggest that the season you are in carries hints of what you’ll be doing next? This season is a kind companion, escorting you to the next one. And then the next. We would be wise to sit back a bit and enjoy today’s adventure, whatever gifts and sufferings they may hold.

Neither the accolades nor the critiques are worth anything. Don’t force something as valuable and sacred as the definition of your life to fit onto the small, flat, earthly paper of a degree or a certificate. They will come and they will go and they are important. But they do not get the final say. For in HIM we live and move and have our being. —Emily Freeman

“Gandalf! I thought you were dead! Is everything sad going to become untrue?”

And the minstrel sang to them… until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.  — Tolkien, The Return of the King

 

 

Practical Theology

Posted in life, Poland, teaching English by

I was writing a letter today to someone who was feeling forgotten by God and men. Among other things, I wrote that we were made for Eden, and will never find perfection here. (Has this become the refrain of my days?)

Then I started wondering if God intended us to stay in Eden forever. Did He create Eden with the contingent plans of redemption and healing that would be necessary after the sin and brokenness that would enter the perfection?

These aren’t new questions, and I’m sure there are answers. I’m reading Bonhoeffer right now, and he was a practical theologian, and spent years studying and teaching deep theories and ideas. He was dissatisfied with keeping all of that only as theory, and did his best to flesh out the ideas he believed.

For a fleeting moment today, thinking about Eden, something in me wanted to study and discuss and write and come to a nice, tidy conclusion about God’s purposes and what He had in mind at creation. Good people spend years talking and writing about these kinds of things, and some of that appeals to me.  But not now.

Instead, I felt most fulfilled today, not pondering vast ideas, but teaching and talking with little children. One opened the house door for me but hid under his bed until his mom yelled at him to come for his English lesson. I considered leaving and not getting into a conflict. There’s no point in twisting someone’s arm to learn English. But I gave him a chance, and it turned out to be a delightful 45 min. lesson. He ended up giving me more words than he’d ever done before.

The next class was a brother and sister. She was in a funk and embodied a dark gray storm cloud. It was wonderful to read them a story, meet her eyes now and then, and watch the light gradually seep back into her. I’m learning to relax in children’s classes, and not get all up tight when the lesson doesn’t go as I planned. To go with the current, and if they deviate from my plans, to take that route and make it a teaching opportunity. As one who likes serendipity, this kind of class lets me fly. And they’re not out of control, so I can let them go, which means we played Hangman even if I hadn’t planned to.

I mean,  if, while the sister finishes a project,  the brother writes 13 blanks on the board and asks me to guess his word and it turns out to be christmastree, I’m not going to complain.

Then I treated myself to a fancy coffee (to write the letter mentioned above) and bumped into another student with her 3 yr old who resents his mother talking to anyone except him. But I took him and kissed and tickled his cheeks and made him laugh, and he liked me a little after all.

This is my kind of theology. It’s where I best put my energy. I don’t know what you call it, but it suits me.

__________ isn’t Perfect

Posted in Family, life, travel by

She stood in the doorway, looking like a storm cloud. “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Life isn’t perfect,” she said.

Oh. Yes. That’s what’s wrong.

I remember when it occurred to me, after years of insisting that life is wonderful (and it is), that it feels a lot more honest and freeing to admit imperfection. To acknowledge that Eden was a long time ago. To remember that perfection is still ahead of us.

One thing I hate about the enemy is that he’s the source of imperfection, but that’s not enough: he uses our longing for perfection to pit us against life and  each other. So we’re not perfect, and we hate that, but at the same time we hold others to our expectations of perfection. It can get really ugly.

I wonder how Jesus lived in this tension of knowing perfection but walking, sleeping, eating, loving in a fragmented world. Maybe what made it possible for Him to live well was that He was full of Grace and Truth. He knew reality– the unchanging, clear sense of what was accurate about the moment, but He had grace to cover the shards, elastic to stretch past real limitations.

I’m thinking alot about perfection and imperfection since the week of Christmas, which held more laughter and tears than my normal capacity. In a perfect world, we would understand each others’ hearts and have no expired passports.

The week was also filled with grace. Magnanimous, expansive grace.

Two days after Christmas, my parents, sister and brother-in-law, a friend, and I took a train to Berlin. Our 3 days there were filled with education, laughter, coffee, good weather, discussions.   I think laughter is such a big grace that it’s almost sacred. All of trip was a wonderful way to recharge the batteries.

I have no New Year’s resolutions. I am unspeakably grateful that God is over time, and doesn’t mark years and days as we do. With Him, the next moment is always the moment that is untouched, clear, and ready for new beginnings. For that reason, I know He doesn’t mind when I keep pleading with Him for His grace and truth to become the fabric of my life.

Sing the Glories

Posted in life, recommendations, words by

He came, John wrote, full of grace and truth.

Grace and truth. Truth and grace.

I mull the words, mixing them in a million ways, and always they stay only two words. Two words that dazzle me, words so big that I can’t get my head around them. It’s good I’m not trying to understand ten words.

I am desperate, panting, wanting to absorb what they mean and what they are.

Truth defies darkness, illumines, clarifies. To live with one lie–even half a lie–is too much darkness to endure. What is the truth about this situation? What can dispel the lie I believe here? Living in light is what we were created for, and it is beautiful.

But truth alone can kill, can cut to the bone, can devastate. Truth can be scary, and we unconsciously adopt ways to avoid it.

Grace moves into the cracks that truth opens. Grace soothes and softens. It never refutes truth, never distorts the light. It gives space and understanding and patience. It gives when it could rightfully demand. It forgives when it could justly expose.

Humans, in their finiteness, are prone to the either/or limitations of grace and truth. We try to be balanced, and try to come out with a good average. But Christ, in His fullness and perfection, came FULL of both grace and truth.

The wonder of it catches my breath and makes me hungry for the same fullness, the same richness. I know how my fallible heart harps on truth without the balm of grace, but the next minute slathers grace in the shade, disregarding the full truth.

I see that real change in the world and in me happens at the place where grace is poured onto truth.

The bishop told Jean Valjean who’d stolen the silver:  “You promised to become an honest  man. You no longer belong to evil but to good. With this silver I ransomed your soul, and now I give you back to God.” The truth was that he no longer belonged to evil. Accepting the grace poured onto that made Jean Valjean a changed man .  Javert, though, tried to live his life without breaking a single rule but truth by itself it had no power for lasting change in himself or anyone in his world.

(If you’ve never read Les Miserables go quickly and get a copy to read over Christmas break.)

He who is full of Truth and Grace is my life model, and I love Him, however feebly and childishly. His truth takes away the shadows of untruths, and His grace softens the hard edges of this fallen, tired, broken world.

He rules the world with truth and grace, and makes the nations sing!

If I Had a House

Posted in life by

I cannot see myself being house-proud and obsessed about whether things look squeaky clean or fashionable.  I would want my house to be a place of rest and joy, where anyone could be comfortable and not worry about disturbing a fussy display, nor have to pick cat hair out of  the cake. (There wouldn’t be a cat.) I would want it to be a place of encouragement and warmth and simplicity.

But if I owned a house, and could paint and decorate according to my whims, I would most certainly, definitely have a wall like this where every guest would write something they’re thankful for when they come, or before they leave.  They could choose the color marker they want, and draw a picture instead of write a word. Really, I understand children’s compulsion to write on walls. They’re such wide, open places with endless possibilities.

I would want a wall that no one could pass without having their routine tweaked a little bit. Because nothing is easier than complaining, and giving thanks takes effort. We need something tangible to remind us that to be thankful is to live honestly, to acknowledge a giver, to admit we are unbelievably rich, to help each other remember that lament is also worship.

color- hot soup- warm scarves-big mugs-hugs and wet kisses from my niece and nephews last wkend-students and friends who call the best from me–these words I would write on that wall today.

 

Even Teachers Need Teachers

Posted in life, recommendations by

When I attended a weekend seminar on depression, I wondered where the main speaker went for advice. Where does the counselor go for counsel? He had so much wisdom and experience to give, and I respect him so much that I almost put him on an unfair, high pedestal. But of course he’s human, and needs input from other people.

Then when I trained to become a massage therapist, I started wondering where does the therapist go for therapy?

I don’t know how our present generation compares with former ones. I only know that me and my peers tend to think we’re pretty well-informed on every subject, and we can spout off ideas and opinions, and we think the world owes us an audience. I think it’s partially connected to the narcissistic behavior we can adopt on blogs and social media.

That said, we do have good things to learn from each other. We CAN build up each other, inform, teach, advise.  At the same time, I want always to be able to listen, to be taught, to know my own mind but to acknowledge that my perspective is limited and even flawed.

Every counselor needs a counselor. Every therapist needs a therapist. And EVERYone needs a mentor.

My mentor is a wise lady who, several years ago, asked me a pivotal question that changed my life direction.  She’s a gift because I didn’t go out to look for her. She saw me and pursued me and even when she saw how ugly and messed up I was, she didn’t cringe or flinch. I don’t live near her, but at least a couple times a year, I email her with my current questions and issues. She answers with insight and calmness that heals me like little else does. And she keeps me from being dependent on her, because she keeps pointing me to God and what He’s up to.

When I’m afraid that I’m using her, she reminds me that God uses people to help people, and that she wants to hear back from me.

I say this here because EVERYone needs someone like this in their life. You might have to ask someone to be your mentor. You might have to make the first move, and tell someone that you really need them to give you perspective and advice on your big issues. And don’t kid yourself–you’ve got issues. If you don’t think you do, ask yourself why you got so angry the last time someone disappointed you. Or why you heard yourself talking to/thinking about your co-worker or sister or boss in a less-than-loving way.

I’m not talking about slotting into the touchy-feely world where you only think about your feelings and experiences. You can give, and give well, but you can never know so  much or have so much experience that you don’t need others to help you.

My old wrinkly-faced friend Pepita used to tell me, “The day you stop learning, your toes curl up.” She was over 90, so she should’ve known.

No Ordinary People

Posted in life, Poland by

Last week as I walked the old streets of Warsaw, I tried not to gape at the sharp, intelligent-looking people who strode past me. I felt like a country mouse, agog at the stylish, cultured clothes, the confident walking through gateways, the luxuriant lingering at lunch. Understated. Classy. Artsy. There were all kinds, and I loved watching them.

I caught myself thinking, “Wow, what cultured, classy people live in Warsaw.”

Later, I wondered if that was a fair assessment. I’m thinking out-loud here, and maybe I’m wrong, but I think it’s not fair or right to judge what a person’s personality is, who they really are,  by how they dress. The classy, got-it-together appearance can hide a falling-apart soul. Just as an out-of-fashion, homely appearance can veil a sparkling, keen heart and unsung talents.

I maintain that clothes reveal a person’s priorities, and not who they really are. Ok, admittedly, some of this is about me, because I don’t want people to judge me according to what I wear. I don’t like to spend a lot of time thinking about how I look, and a photo session can put me in a funk for awhile. Like most women, the times I believe I’m beautiful are rare and fleeting.

I have often seen people look askance at my veil and dress, and on good days, it makes me pity them because they don’t know what I nice friend I could be to them. =)  On bad days, their disapproval makes me want to hide. But generally, I don’t mind, because my priorities are serving my God by following His standards and wanting His approval for my decisions, plus I sort of like doing things that make people ask questions.

We are human, and we only see the outside, so that is what we quickly assess and judge. But maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we should keep asking for Jesus’ eyes to see people as they are, to see their hearts. I think it is usually possible to see a person’s heart by what they reveal in their eyes . It takes time and gentleness and care. And if we don’t have the luxury of spending time with a stranger, we should at least give them the benefit of the doubt, and believe that, no matter how they appear, they are, in C.S. Lewis’ words, “never ordinary: you have never talked to a mere mortal.”

Nations, cultures, arts, civilization–these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, exploit–immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. –Lewis

How to Serve Singles

Posted in life, recommendations, singleness by

Carolyn McCulley, author of several books and blogger at Radical Womanhood, was recently asked to write a guest post for John Piper with advice to leaders on how to serve singles. Although it was written especially for pastors, I think it’s applicable to anyone in the church who wants to serve their spiritual family.

I’m sharing the main points of the post, and a brief parts of their explanations. Do yourself a favour and read the whole post.

You are not shepherding a dating service — wait, yes you are.

Churches should have a high view of marriage and uphold it without apology. But church leaders also need to recognize that when marriage is devalued in our culture, that brokenness comes into the church, too.

The church should be proactive about facilitating what God prizes in Scripture. That said, there’s a huge difference between being nosy busybodies and facilitating relationships among single adults.

Marriage is not the ultimate prize.

While I believe all churches should prize marriage and family, I also believe we have to be careful about the unintentional messages potentially conveyed about marriage and family. Both are gifts for this life alone.

The Singles are actually unmarried men and women.

It’s important that unmarried men and women are discipled as men and women and not a generic lump of singleness. Unmarried men and women are no less masculine or feminine because of being single.

Single men need leadership responsibilities.

When church leaders ask unmarried men to take on significant responsibilities, they demonstrate a belief that godly singleness is a tremendous asset to the Body of Christ.

Single adults are not workhorses.

Understand the challenges of endless opportunity.

A wise pastor once told a singles group that because he was a pastor, father, and husband, the boundaries of his day were fairly well-defined from the moment he woke up. He knew his responsibilities and the priorities given to him by God and he didn’t have to spend a lot of time deciding what he was supposed to do. But single adults can think they don’t have those same clear priorities and can be tempted to drift through their days.

Single men trust God by risking rejection and single women trust God by waiting on him.

Encourage single men and women to read Ruth. Not because it’s a matchmaking book (it’s really not), but because we all tend to be like Naomi. We survey our circumstances and think we know exactly what God is doing. . . or not doing.

Don’t be afraid to challenge bitterness.

Extended singleness is a form of suffering.  Don’t minimize the cumulative years of dashed hopes for unmarried adults.

That said, we single adults need loving challenges when we have allowed a root of bitterness to spring up and block our prayers to God, our fellowship with others, and our service to the church. Deferred hopes cannot be allowed to corrode our thankfulness for the gift of salvation.

It’s not self-improvement, it’s others-improvement.

Too often our advice to unmarried adults stems from worldly thinking that infects us all. We give advice to improve and equip the unmarried adult to attract better relationships, rather than reminding them they are stewards of whatever relationships they have been given.

It’s not whether boy gets girl. It’s whether we can look Jesus in the eye and say, “Thank you for the time you gave me with this person. I did my best to encourage and pray for this individual while I knew him/her. I loved without fear of loss because I wanted to be like you. So by your grace, I did my very best to build up this man/woman and return him/her to you with thanks for the gift of this relationship.”

I don’t see my blog becoming a place to discuss singleness because, although I have experience there, it’s not the only thing that defines me and my interests. Still, I have a voice to singles, and an ear for young single ladies. With that in mind, I recommend that single women read this post, “Why Pray for a Husband?” also by Carolyn. It’s one of the  most succinct, honest, wise articles I’ve seen on the subject.