Even if I didn’t give it a second look, the flash of passing a construction site slow moves an image of raw unfinished potential, it almost always spurns in me a momentary imagination high. Like most imagination rushes it’s tied to a memory tag. My electrical engineer dad built. I never discovered what he couldn’t build; maybe the pond he had some work friend come out and dig out with his huge bulldoze which turned out to be an epic failure, it could never keep much water. It turned into a glorified mosquito red-light district with a frog-chorus for a musical background; so much for the enchanting family pond for summer rows and swinging ropes. One of my dad’s home projects was an aluminum-sheeted barn, several of his work projects included radio and television stations. Incongruity he never finished the closets inside the house. Considering it part of our education, he regularly would take as along to help. I measured the earth-round, table-sawed carefully, mixed cement till I was a gritty-gray, wobbled on roofs (I’m a heights non-maverick) hammered my thumb into a purple puddles, sneezed and scratched on pink beds of insulation in hot lofts and jittery played with all kinds of electrical boxes and wires and yes, got unforgettably electrocuted. Basically, I was just a plain-gofer down-on dirt and high on ladders and jibs. My current place-of-the-pillow has had a junk yard of sorts across the road from me. Today they finished leveling of the soil after carrying away the last of the ‘junk’ who knows where. I found it sort of sad—though I had joked about the hood effect it created for our place, I still found it an intriguing place akin to the construction pull and wished it a whimsical goodbye by standing still for a moment of silence while walking by earlier. Out of nowhere, I suddenly wondered at my grace toward unfinished projects and eye-sore liter when compared to the frustration, way too often voiced aloud, with people. After all, aren’t we all just unfinished projects? My personality dictates that I pick up on potential within people and I do, but lately I’ve experienced more internal exasperation and downright anger toward certain people’s traits, habits, actions, personality—you name it. I’ve caught myself in moments of pure tirades and have felt unkindly toward myself though honestly not unmixed with a stinking self-righteousness. My memorial junk yard moment transitioned a spirit-call to extended graciousness toward all of us unfinished projects that we are—including me. My paints is still wet went the lyrics of a childhood song I vaguely recall. My paint is still wet…glaringly wet.
“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Sunday, June 20, 2010
No Regret
It’s about no regret,” Carolina emphasized “no regret; just about every day I am at the bedside of someone who is at death’s door and those with no regret are the most peaceful.” I’ve heard that line about living a life with no regret. It’s usually sandwich in a conversation on wither a certain decision NOT made will lead to regret.
But Carolina’s status as a Geriatrics Social Worker, which puts her in daily contact with people surveying their life at end of their life, gave weight to her words. I listened, I mean I really listened. No regret. For me, regret comes in the form of “I wished I would have.” I’m naturally overcautious and guarded about certain things, a side that is at odds with my free spirit outlook. No regret sounds incredibly intoxicating. I felt my cautious side let out of sigh envy as I intentionally flirted outside his reach.
But Carolina’s status as a Geriatrics Social Worker, which puts her in daily contact with people surveying their life at end of their life, gave weight to her words. I listened, I mean I really listened. No regret. For me, regret comes in the form of “I wished I would have.” I’m naturally overcautious and guarded about certain things, a side that is at odds with my free spirit outlook. No regret sounds incredibly intoxicating. I felt my cautious side let out of sigh envy as I intentionally flirted outside his reach.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Meekness?
"Blessed are the meek: for they will inherit the earth."
Matthew 5:5
Blessed are the meek. Not by the ambitious, proud, self-serving, self-asserting throng.
Blessed in the now, present tense.
Will Inherit the earth. Notice the 'will', it is not a 'is' inheriting. But a "will" inherit. Not inheriting right now. Not this earth, with its current values but after whatever proceeds it.
If meekness is the selflessness, patience under wrong that was manifested by Jesus. Then I am in trouble.
I used to think I was pretty mild mannered. Not easily ruffled or provoked. And I was. I had a level-headed and wise mother whose consistent example and 'be like Jesus' mantra. Did much to foster a quiet spirit. But somewhere in my personality evolution, I began thinking that I should develop an opposite attitude. One that would set me apart. That would feign off the pain and put up those 'boundaries' everyone is talking about. What seemed vogue and apart was attitude highlights like, "no, she didn't!", "talk to the hand" or "he isn't going to get away with that!". I starting taking extra pains in my 'growth' to make sure my 'boundaries' where in place.
My girlfriends and one or two guys friends expressed surprise at my new vocal expression. I heard things like "you've changed!", and a "that's not like you!" or "is that Diana speaking?!".
But I was proud of my change. I was growing in knowing my own mind and was increasingly less afraid to express it. I was no longer at a loss for words or shy about saying expressing them. It seemed like the logical unfolding from personal knowledge and acceptance to protection of my sense of self. After all, isn't that what a strong woman is all about? I thought I was moving in a positive direction. I was become a liberated woman!
But the words of Jesus on the Sermon on the Mount told me the opposite. It proclaimed a blessing on the meek and the peacemakers. Both of which require self to be put aside and gentleness to reign supreme. I was torn.
On one hand I desired the blessing to be mine. I wanted to experience the happiness and peace that comes with fulfilling Jesus' governing principles. My journey has touched such joy and I want it always.
But on the other, what about being a strong woman? Your just supposed let people walk all over you? Disrespect you and say all kinds of things about you? And you are just supposed to be meek about it?! That cut me. Because it was then that I knew that it was because self was alive and well and on the throne that I wanted "me" to be protected by whatever words and actions were needed. That was not meekness!
With self dead, I realized, I wouldn't care who or what was said or done to me. I would care about the person, the dangerous path they were heading. I would care that my representation of my Jesus was right. Not that I was 'right'.
The picture was complete. And the sides where drawn. Meekness is a heavenly attribute that is not celebrated, let alone appreciated on this earth. While the blessing can be mine today and is not tide to circumstances. My 'earthly' inheritance is coming. And what a earth! Prestine, beautiful and perfect!
"Blessed are the meek, for the will inherit the earth."
Matthew 5:5
Blessed are the meek. Not by the ambitious, proud, self-serving, self-asserting throng.
Blessed in the now, present tense.
Will Inherit the earth. Notice the 'will', it is not a 'is' inheriting. But a "will" inherit. Not inheriting right now. Not this earth, with its current values but after whatever proceeds it.
If meekness is the selflessness, patience under wrong that was manifested by Jesus. Then I am in trouble.
I used to think I was pretty mild mannered. Not easily ruffled or provoked. And I was. I had a level-headed and wise mother whose consistent example and 'be like Jesus' mantra. Did much to foster a quiet spirit. But somewhere in my personality evolution, I began thinking that I should develop an opposite attitude. One that would set me apart. That would feign off the pain and put up those 'boundaries' everyone is talking about. What seemed vogue and apart was attitude highlights like, "no, she didn't!", "talk to the hand" or "he isn't going to get away with that!". I starting taking extra pains in my 'growth' to make sure my 'boundaries' where in place.
My girlfriends and one or two guys friends expressed surprise at my new vocal expression. I heard things like "you've changed!", and a "that's not like you!" or "is that Diana speaking?!".
But I was proud of my change. I was growing in knowing my own mind and was increasingly less afraid to express it. I was no longer at a loss for words or shy about saying expressing them. It seemed like the logical unfolding from personal knowledge and acceptance to protection of my sense of self. After all, isn't that what a strong woman is all about? I thought I was moving in a positive direction. I was become a liberated woman!
But the words of Jesus on the Sermon on the Mount told me the opposite. It proclaimed a blessing on the meek and the peacemakers. Both of which require self to be put aside and gentleness to reign supreme. I was torn.
On one hand I desired the blessing to be mine. I wanted to experience the happiness and peace that comes with fulfilling Jesus' governing principles. My journey has touched such joy and I want it always.
But on the other, what about being a strong woman? Your just supposed let people walk all over you? Disrespect you and say all kinds of things about you? And you are just supposed to be meek about it?! That cut me. Because it was then that I knew that it was because self was alive and well and on the throne that I wanted "me" to be protected by whatever words and actions were needed. That was not meekness!
With self dead, I realized, I wouldn't care who or what was said or done to me. I would care about the person, the dangerous path they were heading. I would care that my representation of my Jesus was right. Not that I was 'right'.
The picture was complete. And the sides where drawn. Meekness is a heavenly attribute that is not celebrated, let alone appreciated on this earth. While the blessing can be mine today and is not tide to circumstances. My 'earthly' inheritance is coming. And what a earth! Prestine, beautiful and perfect!
"Blessed are the meek, for the will inherit the earth."
Monday, March 29, 2010
Bonhoeffer on Peace
His was an evolution from that of a proud German nationalist to that of one consumed with the supremacy, totality, radicalness of Jesus' message of peace. His became an avowed pacifist, even when he choose to intricate himself in the conspiracy to kill Hitler. It is Dietrich Bonhoeffer's writings on this subject of peace and peacemaking that have called me higher to my role as a peacemaker.
Listen to their challenge:
"Jesus is their peace. Now they are not only to have peace but they are to make peace. To do this they renounce violence and strife...Jesus' disciples maintain peace by choosing to suffer instead of causing others to suffer. They preserve community when others destroy it. The renounce imperious self-assertion and are silent in the face of the hatred and injustice done to them. That is how they overcome evil with good. That is how they are makers of divine peace in a world of hatred and war. But their peace will never be greater than when they encounter evil people in peace and are willing to suffer from them. Peacemakers will bear the cross with their Lord, for peace was made at the cross. "
~Discipleship, 108
"God gave God's life, God's all, for your enemies; now you, too, give them what you have: bread if they are hungary, water if they are thirsty, aid if they are weak, blessing, compassion, and love for your enemy. Are they worth it? Who, indeed, could be more worth our love, who could stand in greater need of our love than those who hate? Who is poorer than those? Who is in more need of help, who is in more need of love than your enemy? Have you looked upon your enemies as those, in effect, stand destitute before you and who without being able to voice it themselves, beseech you: 'Help me, give me the one thing that can still help me out in my hate; give me love, God's love, the love of the crucified Savior'?...When you reject your enemy, you turn the poorest of the poor from your door."
~Discipleship, 469
Listen to their challenge:
"Jesus is their peace. Now they are not only to have peace but they are to make peace. To do this they renounce violence and strife...Jesus' disciples maintain peace by choosing to suffer instead of causing others to suffer. They preserve community when others destroy it. The renounce imperious self-assertion and are silent in the face of the hatred and injustice done to them. That is how they overcome evil with good. That is how they are makers of divine peace in a world of hatred and war. But their peace will never be greater than when they encounter evil people in peace and are willing to suffer from them. Peacemakers will bear the cross with their Lord, for peace was made at the cross. "
~Discipleship, 108
"God gave God's life, God's all, for your enemies; now you, too, give them what you have: bread if they are hungary, water if they are thirsty, aid if they are weak, blessing, compassion, and love for your enemy. Are they worth it? Who, indeed, could be more worth our love, who could stand in greater need of our love than those who hate? Who is poorer than those? Who is in more need of help, who is in more need of love than your enemy? Have you looked upon your enemies as those, in effect, stand destitute before you and who without being able to voice it themselves, beseech you: 'Help me, give me the one thing that can still help me out in my hate; give me love, God's love, the love of the crucified Savior'?...When you reject your enemy, you turn the poorest of the poor from your door."
~Discipleship, 469
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Why did I say yes...
In between the pausing, weaving California traffic of a thoughtful afternoon. I pondered my own decision. Why did I say yes? Why didn't I say No. While the honor is great. Its impact huge. The significance of my choice lies not in my acceptance but in my denial.
I did not accept the 'honor because I wanted to. I affirm that this 'honor' does not represents my fondest hopes and dreams.
Though it does represent a bounce-forward in my journey for significant contribution. But still, that is not why I said yes.
I accept because of 'them.'
This idea came as a surprise to independent me. Its truth slowly dawning away the crusted self and revealing a much more connected-awareness of 'them'.
'Them' are all the ones who never got the chance, 'Them' are the ones who are waiting for a change, 'Them' are the ones who made it happen just for me. For 'Them' and not for me. It's not a completely alturistic statement. But more an acknowledgment that 'self' is part and parcel of 'them'.
A tough year of learning and growing in the intellectual halls of business hold some attractions but not enough to enthrall my imagination. If it was up to me. I would choose a wonder-lust significance for a few years. Mellow in the meadows and fields of yesterday and frolic with fraudulent folks of Frankfort. I would simmer in front of legends and strive with common laborers.
I would wish to feel the pulse of the world.
And that is why I said yes. For them. To choose to 'feel' is no doubt a noble goal, a priceless one that add the silver lining, the heartful meaning to all worthy endeavor. But to choose to exercise the mental 'feelers' that will add the hands and feet, the practical side of heart. That requires more backbone, more determination now than it ever did before.
The line of Yesterdays is growing long, the assembly of Tomorrows couched in vague uncertainty. But to Now belongs the power of yes. To do the deed that will bring the hinges to the window, that became the door, that first intrigued me.
I did not accept the 'honor because I wanted to. I affirm that this 'honor' does not represents my fondest hopes and dreams.
Though it does represent a bounce-forward in my journey for significant contribution. But still, that is not why I said yes.
I accept because of 'them.'
This idea came as a surprise to independent me. Its truth slowly dawning away the crusted self and revealing a much more connected-awareness of 'them'.
'Them' are all the ones who never got the chance, 'Them' are the ones who are waiting for a change, 'Them' are the ones who made it happen just for me. For 'Them' and not for me. It's not a completely alturistic statement. But more an acknowledgment that 'self' is part and parcel of 'them'.
A tough year of learning and growing in the intellectual halls of business hold some attractions but not enough to enthrall my imagination. If it was up to me. I would choose a wonder-lust significance for a few years. Mellow in the meadows and fields of yesterday and frolic with fraudulent folks of Frankfort. I would simmer in front of legends and strive with common laborers.
I would wish to feel the pulse of the world.
And that is why I said yes. For them. To choose to 'feel' is no doubt a noble goal, a priceless one that add the silver lining, the heartful meaning to all worthy endeavor. But to choose to exercise the mental 'feelers' that will add the hands and feet, the practical side of heart. That requires more backbone, more determination now than it ever did before.
The line of Yesterdays is growing long, the assembly of Tomorrows couched in vague uncertainty. But to Now belongs the power of yes. To do the deed that will bring the hinges to the window, that became the door, that first intrigued me.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Simplfy: the how to
My childhood friend, MJ, affectionately called 'little Mo' back in the day, recently shared that he was working on simplifying his life. I asked his definition of simplify. He in turn asked for mine. This is what I've come up...so far.
Simplicity is the art of choosing wisely between the good and the better and pressing on to the best.
An art often comes first as gift...given not sought. The catch of course is that an 'art' is never easy. It builds on a Authentic and Integrated self and it requires focus, determination and hardwork.
Its begs to be asked: What is my gift? So I can turn it into my art...simply that.
Simplicity is the art of choosing wisely between the good and the better and pressing on to the best.
An art often comes first as gift...given not sought. The catch of course is that an 'art' is never easy. It builds on a Authentic and Integrated self and it requires focus, determination and hardwork.
Its begs to be asked: What is my gift? So I can turn it into my art...simply that.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Simply Overflow J.E.S.U.S.
Simply [from simplify: to make less complex or complicated]
Overflow [ to flow or run over]
Join: mingle intentionally.
“The Savior mingled with men as one who desired their good. He showed His sympathy for them, ministered to their needs, and won their confidence. Then He bade them, "Follow Me."--MH 143.
Elevate: the tenor of my conversations.
Psalms 19:14 “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.”
Surrender: A heart in surrender will be Spirit directed to give a "word in due season." Prov.15:33. Be it vocal words or printed words.
Isaiah 30:21 “And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left.
Unity: Involve other people, in prayer for, friendship with and service for our friends.
John 17:11 “That they all may be one…that the world may believe that thou hast sent me.”
Serve: Seeing eyes, willing hands and an understanding heart is Jesus' key to reaching the heart & mind.
“ Sympathize…pray with them, watch for opportunities to do them good…and open the Word of God.”
--Review & Herald, March 13, 1888
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Abuelita...
If Grandma's where chosen...you'd pick mine=)
Always happy, consistently positive. Looks for the humor in events and people. Unselfishly my biggest fan. Totally charming and beautiful to be around!
The most Romantic and uncynical person I know.
My Colombian Abuelita: Isabel Naranjo
Monday, December 14, 2009
One you can surprise...
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Sleeping Bags & other tricks
I like saving time...
by sleeping in sleeping bags,
brushing my teeth and rinsing out the sink.
I hate wasting time...
as in pumping gas: it plummets my mood in short order.
Or that sucky second when Facebook sucked me in again.
I hate saving time...
as in texts when I wanted voice...
or voice when I wanted touch.
I like wasting time...
by working on things of no tangible importance...
as in blogs and books and other brilliant things of imagined importance.
I like saving time...
to wasted it on things of imagined importance.
by sleeping in sleeping bags,
brushing my teeth and rinsing out the sink.
I hate wasting time...
as in pumping gas: it plummets my mood in short order.
Or that sucky second when Facebook sucked me in again.
I hate saving time...
as in texts when I wanted voice...
or voice when I wanted touch.
I like wasting time...
by working on things of no tangible importance...
as in blogs and books and other brilliant things of imagined importance.
I like saving time...
to wasted it on things of imagined importance.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The Vision
My heart didn’t get what it wanted…that’s the short and the long of it: A collage of disappointments, the big break, a love of my own. A season of creeping bitterness unlike anything I have ever experienced wove a dampening-fog-web within me. At first I thought I could shake it off with reasoning…logically deduce my disappointment away…but there was no real reason. Where a logical reason appeared, its voiding retort flipped right up. It was unfair and not right. My conscientious bent to life, my spiritual world-view had made me choose principles above inclination, the right above the feel-good. And by contrast and comparison; I had received less then my due. Asaph had it right. “I’ve been stupid to play by the rules; what has it gotten me?” Ps.73:13. I was discouraged, offended and betrayed.
I dared not voice the volcano of emotions that churned within me...I am a spiritual leader, a counselor friend, a good-little-church-girl, according to one facebook tag. And that’s the jab. I am questioning God. More than that, I am comparing my life-plate with that of others…and it comes up short. I’m sick of thinking of those less fortunate, I am tired of looking at the ‘eternal perspective’, I am fed up with ‘dieing to self.’ My normally surrendered, your-will-be-done prayers are turning into stony- blockade silences or outburst of answer- demanding tirades.
My disaffected spirit troubled me. The lack of feelings of loyalty and affection for the God of my childhood and youth jarring me more then the reasons that had prompted those feelings to begin with. In a moment I sensed how easy it is would be to walk away from the One you have centered your life around. If feelings kept me believing, then they weren’t there so where was my belief?
What was my belief in? Maybe that was the point. With a dawning dread I was brought face to face with a picture of me; maybe, just maybe, I was serving God more for the cookies and milk than any altruistic, high principled reason. My real loyalties might lay more with a Santa- Claus-God or the unconsciously God projected by my self-centered consciousness than by any biblically faithfully revelation of God.
It was about that time that my devotions took me to the book of Job. The submersion into the Job-story was uncannily perfect, even though I expected no ‘new’ insight. The raw edge to my devastated hopes glued my heart to the solitary Job, questioning where he questioned, extolling my ‘virtues’ where he did his and wonderingly admiring his steadfast faith in the face of it all. What would normally have taken me a couple weeks I finished in a couple days! The climax of God’s whirl-wind arrival into the conversations paused my heart. Maybe this time I would find an answer to the ‘whys’ on my heart. But the disappointment was real. God’s marshaled answer was an eight-plus question session; with more statements to back up the questions! He didn’t answer Job’s questions! He didn’t clear up Job’s charges, He didn’t even explain the big picture!
I didn’t get it. I just didn’t. Whatever it was Job got it. He humbly repents for “babbling about things far beyond him”. Job 42:3 Of course, good ‘ol faithful Job would get. But I didn’t it. It just seemed like a blow off, a rudeness par-excellence! But Job’s repentance is premised by a statement: “I have heard of you but now I see you” Job 42:5. Job saw a vision of God that put Job’s questions to rest.
I walked on my frustration, because I couldn’t certainly walk it off! If that is the answer to my questioning heart, then God “I want a Vision of You!” I went back to the text and shimmered in the questions. According to the passage, God’s questioning discourse disseminates from within a whirlwind. The vision of God is a verbal palate that sets of God’s phenomenon Creative genius from the cosmic scale to the earth seasons and creaturely order, detail and sustaining power.
I’m still pondering its significance.
I dared not voice the volcano of emotions that churned within me...I am a spiritual leader, a counselor friend, a good-little-church-girl, according to one facebook tag. And that’s the jab. I am questioning God. More than that, I am comparing my life-plate with that of others…and it comes up short. I’m sick of thinking of those less fortunate, I am tired of looking at the ‘eternal perspective’, I am fed up with ‘dieing to self.’ My normally surrendered, your-will-be-done prayers are turning into stony- blockade silences or outburst of answer- demanding tirades.
My disaffected spirit troubled me. The lack of feelings of loyalty and affection for the God of my childhood and youth jarring me more then the reasons that had prompted those feelings to begin with. In a moment I sensed how easy it is would be to walk away from the One you have centered your life around. If feelings kept me believing, then they weren’t there so where was my belief?
What was my belief in? Maybe that was the point. With a dawning dread I was brought face to face with a picture of me; maybe, just maybe, I was serving God more for the cookies and milk than any altruistic, high principled reason. My real loyalties might lay more with a Santa- Claus-God or the unconsciously God projected by my self-centered consciousness than by any biblically faithfully revelation of God.
It was about that time that my devotions took me to the book of Job. The submersion into the Job-story was uncannily perfect, even though I expected no ‘new’ insight. The raw edge to my devastated hopes glued my heart to the solitary Job, questioning where he questioned, extolling my ‘virtues’ where he did his and wonderingly admiring his steadfast faith in the face of it all. What would normally have taken me a couple weeks I finished in a couple days! The climax of God’s whirl-wind arrival into the conversations paused my heart. Maybe this time I would find an answer to the ‘whys’ on my heart. But the disappointment was real. God’s marshaled answer was an eight-plus question session; with more statements to back up the questions! He didn’t answer Job’s questions! He didn’t clear up Job’s charges, He didn’t even explain the big picture!
I didn’t get it. I just didn’t. Whatever it was Job got it. He humbly repents for “babbling about things far beyond him”. Job 42:3 Of course, good ‘ol faithful Job would get. But I didn’t it. It just seemed like a blow off, a rudeness par-excellence! But Job’s repentance is premised by a statement: “I have heard of you but now I see you” Job 42:5. Job saw a vision of God that put Job’s questions to rest.
I walked on my frustration, because I couldn’t certainly walk it off! If that is the answer to my questioning heart, then God “I want a Vision of You!” I went back to the text and shimmered in the questions. According to the passage, God’s questioning discourse disseminates from within a whirlwind. The vision of God is a verbal palate that sets of God’s phenomenon Creative genius from the cosmic scale to the earth seasons and creaturely order, detail and sustaining power.
I’m still pondering its significance.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
"It is for our own benefit to keep every gift of God fresh in our memory.
By this means faith is strengthened to claim and to receive more and more.
There is greater encouragement for us in the least blessing we ourselves receive
from God than in all the accounts we can read of the faith and experience
of others."
The Ministry of Healing, 49
Three dollars and some odd cents. I had milk in the fridge, a few cans of beans, some left over white rice and peanuts. There was less than half a tank of gas and work to do in town...seventeen miles away. I decided not to tell a soul...to bring it before the God who owns the cattle on a thousand hills.
I half wondered if it wasn't my pride speaking. I mean after all, independence has kind of been my trade mark. Not that its all bad, but I had sort of overdone it at times...the self-sufficiency turning into an obnoxious block against all kinds of what I perceived as neediness behavior, which actually was often just healthy inter-dependance. I don't exist in a vacuum; I totally need other people and I'm getting better about being open and vulnerable; but on the other hand I wanted to exercises my Sunflower-Impulse. My turning to God as First, Best and Last in my life.
He did it! I didn't breath a WORD to a human and He did!
I was given a loaf of Berry Bread...
A jucy watermelon...
Gas money in exchange for a ride...
and cash sent because of an impression...
The Lord is faithful...the Lord is faithful to little ME! My bread and water was provided and it even came back buttered!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Yoked and Harnessed
I must say it is faith-building. No, I mean it really is. I'm still some times such a skeptic that Godly and Great marriages can be made that God sometimes spins me around to take a second look at a few of them. And with my peers falling of the single-band wagon left and right (literally!) I'm having plenty of opportunities!
Vienna found me catching up with Rina and Cosmin!
Rina being my Weimar College roommate and once-upon-a-time fellow conspirator to a life single devotion to God. Meaning no marriage! PTL some things do change! They were on a European Vacation that throbbed with missi
on. It included a whole array of tracts in several languages, a youth mission in Romania and consistent other-centered love to those around them. They never seemed to meet a stranger! It was our first time together after their Evangelistic Wedding in December and as we traded stories I felt a smile creep into my inner being. The are not only yoked in marriage but boy are they harnessed into ministry together...Rina just finished her Master in Music and Cosmin is in the throes of the end of his English one! Ministry together on a small college campus has its challenges but what a duo of influence! Rina had a certain calm glow that I haven't really seen before and Cosmin surprised me with being humble and intelligent...I mean to say that his servant's heart compliments his brains...and vise versa. Did I save myself or what?
The garden's hard work was catching up with me and I was dead-tired all over Vienna that weekend but not only was it fun to hang with these guys but it was soul-filling was well. I was thrilled to hear Cosmin's testimony and their mutual focused committed to God's ways and will was truly inspiring. I'm still working on all the fascinating books English-minded Cosmin recommended!
on. It included a whole array of tracts in several languages, a youth mission in Romania and consistent other-centered love to those around them. They never seemed to meet a stranger! It was our first time together after their Evangelistic Wedding in December and as we traded stories I felt a smile creep into my inner being. The are not only yoked in marriage but boy are they harnessed into ministry together...Rina just finished her Master in Music and Cosmin is in the throes of the end of his English one! Ministry together on a small college campus has its challenges but what a duo of influence! Rina had a certain calm glow that I haven't really seen before and Cosmin surprised me with being humble and intelligent...I mean to say that his servant's heart compliments his brains...and vise versa. Did I save myself or what?The garden's hard work was catching up with me and I was dead-tired all over Vienna that weekend but not only was it fun to hang with these guys but it was soul-filling was well. I was thrilled to hear Cosmin's testimony and their mutual focused committed to God's ways and will was truly inspiring. I'm still working on all the fascinating books English-minded Cosmin recommended!
Kamila and Eric! 
I hadn't seen Kamcha in years!
We attended College of Evangelism of Canvessing together. I hadn't seen her since. It was rumored that she had married an American-boy (she is Czech) and that they were doing ministry together in Czech. It was all true! I bused myself over to a charming town a couple hours south of Prague. A laughing Kamila (PTL some things don't change ) tumbled out of a car loaded with canvassing books! I was deeply impressed. Turns out they are full-time L.E.er's in Czech. Making a living by spreading His Word! Eric turns out is laid-back fellow SAUer who had left it all for Mission-Calling without a clue of where or what. His story was amazing and I thought again how perfect he seemed for Kamila's sanguine sunshine.
As we talked and walked around the town and tried Kamila's [pasta-poppy-seed master piece. I marveled at God and His ways. Their Love-Story is principled and tender and humorous! Their current lives a true testament of unselfish love for each other and others.
No wonder that counsel says that the greatest testament to the validity of the Christian message is a Christian home! When I arrived back at the Farm the next day, someone asked me if I'd fallen in love. I laughed out loud. "Why do you say that," I asked. "Because you're glowing" was the replay. I thought about that. Being around pure, unselfish love had rubbed off a glow on me.
Faith-building. Not so much in the sense that maybe it could happen to me, though I would be lieing out right if I denied it, but more in the sense that God's power can take two different and imperfect humans and create a harmonious and happy home! And it blesses others. It did me.
Love is real...God is love.
As we talked and walked around the town and tried Kamila's [pasta-poppy-seed master piece. I marveled at God and His ways. Their Love-Story is principled and tender and humorous! Their current lives a true testament of unselfish love for each other and others.No wonder that counsel says that the greatest testament to the validity of the Christian message is a Christian home! When I arrived back at the Farm the next day, someone asked me if I'd fallen in love. I laughed out loud. "Why do you say that," I asked. "Because you're glowing" was the replay. I thought about that. Being around pure, unselfish love had rubbed off a glow on me.
Faith-building. Not so much in the sense that maybe it could happen to me, though I would be lieing out right if I denied it, but more in the sense that God's power can take two different and imperfect humans and create a harmonious and happy home! And it blesses others. It did me.
Love is real...God is love.
Czech[ed] in the Garden
Celery stalks...
Row upon row of beets...
If I were to be totally frank. It's not what I had in mind when I came to Czech.
But as is often the case when God shifts the plans, it was exactly what I needed. My original impulse to go to Country Life Czech was to shimmer in the Vegetarian Restaurant Ministry for future reference. I arrive in Czech and
for one or another reason I'm planted in the Organic Farm. Restaurant vs. Farm...Farm vs. Restaurant--just a tad different I'd say. But I've been on this journey long enough to once in a while remember that the Master knows what He is doing, even when I'm lost in transit. Still I couldn't help but think, as I struggled in a particular obnoxious patch of weeds, that I could have just as easily pulled weeds in the states! The thought quickly evaporated.I'm not the least bit exaggerating when I say that the it was a sterling 20-odd days! I absolutely relished the hard work. My childhood-trained stamina competed with the forces of nature in one glad race. The sun, rain, mud, aching-muscles all of it rested my mind and strangely enough, also my body. The sleep of a working-woman is sweet!
There is something about productive physical labor frees the spirit like no other. Forget the rush of the RUSH or any other Fitness Complex. Give me a garden! I knew all this of course. But after years of academia, the absolutely vitality of it all had faded some from my imagination.
I wish with all my heart I had been dutiful to recorded all the insights and spiritual objection lessons that bloomed in between the beets and celery patches...suffice it to say that the Mighty Counselor watered my heart and strengthened my spirit in between the rows upon rows of dependant little vegetables.
The Farm was fertile ground for the Father's Business. Not only where there more than a few agnostic or spiritualistic individuals, but also more than a few seekers and babe's in Christ. Our impromptu bible-truth discussions took on a new meaning for me surrounded as we where by God's Second Book. Even as I remember the people and their stories and questions, tears come to my eyes. For it never seems that I have Done enough. Been enough. Prayed enough.
I distinctly remember one time. An especially eclectic man, he had recently began reading a children's Bible hoping its simplicity would lead to understanding. His observations and questions where keen. Not to be misunderstood as a seeker though, for he was still very much a skeptic. Near the end of my stay and after several stimulating conversation in which he listened intently and asked pointed questions. He pauses between a row next to mine and keeping his head bowed asks. "And who is Jesus to you?"
Oh the rush of inadequacy! Cursed be my failings and life-long inarticulateness. I longed to be unhampered by the limitations of language and experience to describe who EXACTLY He is and what He Means to me! I don't recall how I started or even the majority of the content. But I remember pausing in between an exposition on WHO Jesus is (I was immensely glad I'd read 'The Case for Christ") and switched to WHAT He MEANS...the experiential route. I noticed a reaction that had nothing to do with logical astuteness or a skeptic's appraisal. A heart awakened. No, not responding but awakened. I don't know where this conversation or others we had will play out in his spiritual walk... But I do know this: Jesus, His all-encompassing reality and love for me have never been as real as in that moment when I tried to share a glimpse of Him with one who never really has heard about Him-exponentially.
I wish with all my heart I had been dutiful to recorded all the insights and spiritual objection lessons that bloomed in between the beets and celery patches...suffice it to say that the Mighty Counselor watered my heart and strengthened my spirit in between the rows upon rows of dependant little vegetables.
The Farm was fertile ground for the Father's Business. Not only where there more than a few agnostic or spiritualistic individuals, but also more than a few seekers and babe's in Christ. Our impromptu bible-truth discussions took on a new meaning for me surrounded as we where by God's Second Book. Even as I remember the people and their stories and questions, tears come to my eyes. For it never seems that I have Done enough. Been enough. Prayed enough.
I distinctly remember one time. An especially eclectic man, he had recently began reading a children's Bible hoping its simplicity would lead to understanding. His observations and questions where keen. Not to be misunderstood as a seeker though, for he was still very much a skeptic. Near the end of my stay and after several stimulating conversation in which he listened intently and asked pointed questions. He pauses between a row next to mine and keeping his head bowed asks. "And who is Jesus to you?"
Oh the rush of inadequacy! Cursed be my failings and life-long inarticulateness. I longed to be unhampered by the limitations of language and experience to describe who EXACTLY He is and what He Means to me! I don't recall how I started or even the majority of the content. But I remember pausing in between an exposition on WHO Jesus is (I was immensely glad I'd read 'The Case for Christ") and switched to WHAT He MEANS...the experiential route. I noticed a reaction that had nothing to do with logical astuteness or a skeptic's appraisal. A heart awakened. No, not responding but awakened. I don't know where this conversation or others we had will play out in his spiritual walk... But I do know this: Jesus, His all-encompassing reality and love for me have never been as real as in that moment when I tried to share a glimpse of Him with one who never really has heard about Him-exponentially.
So what about the Vegetarian Restaurant Ministry? I believe in it more than ever and the Farm was the perfect place (reality) to shimmer in it for future reference. But that's a tale for another day.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Czech the Morning
Jetlag has several benefits, one being you get to enjoy unhampered by regular distractions, free exploration of the land landed in. It will never feel quite the same as that first glorious morning when everything feels fresh and new. I think I would go thru the flip side of jetlag, the odd alertness and the off slumbering, just to exprience the climax of curiosity with the wonder of experience. My first morning in Czech is no exception. I was up at 4 a.m. and wandered off without concern by dew-dropped fields and around the evergreen forested patches, everything misted by a fleeting vail of white. The gentle hills that make up this part of the country lend themselves to a stacking of gray-blue against a blushing sky. The wildflowers are abundant and the cottages a maze of colors. Discovering a hunters' tower I scampered up and marveled at the view! A breakfast table of brilliant-hued horses turns up after a sharp curve and I am reminded that my own meal awaits...I turn back and as I descend into the Complex a shimmering morning sun floods it with a soft glow of light...the adventure has began
Sunday, June 28, 2009
a Gift
She laid her blond head on the table next to me. Her quietness alerting me that something was up. "What wrong", I asked as I continued my web work.
She was quieter still.
The thought came to me to be just as quiet...I'd show her I really did care to know.
After a while her head came up, dashing her brilliant-yellow hair away from her eyes, their blue filled with the unspoken question: "Why are you quiet?"
"I'm waiting for you to tell me what's wrong" I answered.
She paused before whispering, "I don't want you to go!"
I reasoned in eight-year-old language why it was actually really great that I was going and how no matter what happened, because we love Jesus we'd see each other again and what fun she'd have while I was gone. I think I blabbed to much. The next thing I knew she was sobbing, her shoulders heaving and her soft tears dampening her shirt sleeve.
"It won't be the same without you!" Came the muffled cry.
We talked it out.
But after I tucked her in to my sister's bed I couldn't help but wonder at it all.
The simple, sincere, deep love of a child.
That beguiling childhood sensitivity.
It awakens wonder and tenderness and protectiveness.
No walls, no falseness, no edge...
Just love. just love.
What a gift.
Bald Creek Falls
I grew up in land-locked southern Illinois. Our nearest body of water was our appealing sea-green sewer pond or man-made muddy Rend Lake.
Who knows when I feel in love with water but I did! These falls are over an hour away from my current home...feel the rush!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
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