Reflections in the mud

Sometimes we need a good cry, a rockin party, a terrible sad movie, a jolly belly laugh, a delicious meal, a hard sleep just to give us the momentum to keep going. I do not suffer the small stuff because as one of my wise t-shirts tell me," the little things in life are really the big things".

Beauty can break into every mud hole. As I watched the devastation of the tornadoes I was struck by the spectacular sunshine the day after. How much easier to find and seek when there is sun and not rain. It does not bring anyone back or repair a home splintered but it gives space to regroup in warmth and sunshine. I notice that about tornadoes...after the black comes blue skies. I am not wanting to diminish the pain by saying...hey at least we have sunshine...but at least we have sunshine to start again. A reflection of good in the mud holes of our life. Grief in all its faceted sharp edges leaves room for a balm. I pray this for those in the throes of this awful battle. A touch of hope through the senses of sight (beauty), touch (warmth), smell ( flowers in bloom), taste (good meal) and hearing ( songs of hope)...reaching into the weariness of grief.

When we walk the dogs this cool and rainy winter and spring it has often been in just mud puddles and usually all we get from the adventure are muddy dogs. On this day though, muddy dogs and a reflection of hope.

Secrets

We all carry them and every day I hear more and more from students who unload on my shoulders. I don't mind and I carry them back to God but I am so often amazed at how much pain a soul can carry around. How little a person can say to alleviate the burden and how much it means just have someone listen. It isn't restricted to teenagers or even just to parents...we all carry secrets of unresolved grief, hidden burdens, painful memories. Things that should not make a difference in how we live but sneak into every joy and expand every sorrow.
I was thinking about Mary Magdalene since our Pastor used her story in the Easter sermon. Her life was complete with sin and I can't imagine how many secrets and regrets she carried within. No wonder she followed Jesus so closely and why she was the last one to leave the cross and the first one at the tomb. She knew Jesus knew and she felt safe. Someone who looked into all her secrets and set her free...why not follow him closely. See if he ever uses the secret against her, or uses her as an example in one of his sermons, or smirks about who she as and what she did...Never. Jesus looked at her brand new. He makes everything new...everything...all that we are...all that we have done...all that we carry...New. He can do new unlike our enemy who can only make new, ugly.
Back to secrets...We need to unload them to each other, to the Other...walking out of those things that hold us in. He really can make us new...really.

Skip to Sunday

I am trying to explain to the new Chinese students why this weekend is so important to the Christian community. It would be easier to explain what a big deal it was if we had any time off from school but strange as it is ...this Christian school does not take any time off neither Friday nor Monday..that is another story in and of itself. So I am trying to explain the darkness of Good Friday and the jubilation of Resurrection Sunday when one of my students says...why not skip Dark Friday and go right to Great Sunday. It would be great to skip to Sunday but without Friday, Sunday would not have its extravagance.
In our reality outside the garden we only see good in contrast to bad. Ever since we chose to walk our own way and live day by day in this broken down going to be redeemed world we only see light in contrast to dark. Not so in the reality to come where there will be no darkness...
I want to skip Friday but to follow Jesus I have to take up that cross daily...I have to carry in my soul to its redemption the mark of Friday; the weight of sin, the crush of pain living in this in- between waiting for redemption world.
We know Grace because we experience judgment. We know Comfort because we taste grief. We know Forgiveness because we sin. We know Peace because we know strife. We know Joy because we know sorrow. We love because we know isolation.
We celebrate Sunday because we suffer through Friday.

new normal

So as far as we can see at this time Scott will be moving to Montana at the end of this month. The job is a great job and challenging and all that but sheesh Montana is far away. I don't know what our routine will look like or how often we can see each other but at this time we are trying to figure out how to make the best of something rather then seeing the worst of it. If you put this is perspective...it is not that different for people who are in the military or many other reasons why families don't live in the same zip code...but I wonder all the things we will loose and what will be sacrificed on this particular decision. When I was young...I saw my parents every 8 weeks or so as we were in boarding school. No one thought that one through as to the far reaching consequences...are we doing the same in this decision?
We ask for Wisdom, God knows our journey but things don't always work out in the easiest way for the best schedule for the perfect relationship.
I asked Scott last night..."Will we be OK?"He says..."of course we will be". It is all about attitude and for this situation...I want to have a really good one.

...OK...what we would prefer

Scott has been without work for awhile now. His job with PM has been inconsistent so there have been some difficult days trying to figure out what we are supposed to be doing. Now he has been offered a job, a really good one, in Montana.
He is also applying for a job with the National Guard but very uncertain of the possibilities though this job would be here and he would be home every night. Scott has been gone a lot in our marriage and we have made it work though it is difficult on our family. So we pray...for His will to be done, His Kingdom to come, His plan to unfold...what I am hoping though is that His Will and My Desire will be the same.
I have learned something about anxiety and desire ...the more I expect, the more anxious I become. I borrow the 'what ifs' for the year and try and figure out how will I respond and how I will deal. I am told ...that I need to pray and petition with thanksgiving...and that peace of God's will guard my heart and mind. I need those guards to contain the rampant nature of my worries. I so want Scott to be home with a good job...I so want this but at the same time know that if Scott has to be in Montana then the guards will be there as well. Strength for the day at hand not the night before or the months before.
When all is said and done...I want him home.

Find me

At the start when Adam and Eve remembered that they were naked and tried to hide, God came looking for them knowing full well where they were." Adam, where are you?" There is something about that phrase that echos throughout the Bible narrative. Where are you? Why are you hiding, why are you so lost? You even hear it with Jesus' 'Where is your faith'.

My prayer is really simple these past few days." God, Please find me!"

I know that if I seek Him I will find Him, only if I seek Him with all of my heart. What happens if my heart isn't really in the search, will He look for me? What would His voice calling me sound like?

After reading the book Eat, Pray and Love, I watched the movie with Julia Roberts. I know why this mediocre travel log and movie resonated with so many women like me. I am at the place in my life where I wonder who is choosing my path in front of me? I don't have the means to drop everything and travel all over the world getting in touch with my wounded self ( synopsis of story) nor do I want to divorce my husband, leave my children and examine my motives in light of a god reflected in Indian Ashram meditations. Living in Bali isn't a bad idea but the problem would be that I and my conflicted self would be there with me and soon enough I would need another place to settle. Looking desperately to settle...
Chino has this bad habit of wrestling with the blanket right before he settles down for a nap. He tears at this blanket jumping back and forth bunching it up in a messed up ball. After a few minutes of this wrestling...he settles but his bed is far from comfortable. It was fine before he started but somehow this wrestling match is important to him. That's me...I find myself wrestling with the good and make it less to find what I thought I needed.

So back to the start...A dear friend told me that I need to choose joy in the middle of the wrestling match. There is so much truth in that. That is one choice I can make about my life. So as God finds me I will be looking for Joy today, in the moment, in the sun that shines, the beauty of this place, the warmth of my home, the love of my family, the goodness of coffee. I can do this today...I will do this today. Happy hunting everyone!

Maybe this is why...

Cheryl Bratt was 52, Mom was 52. Cheryl's middle name was Marie...Mom's name, Marie-Jospeh. Cheryl was sick but nothing serious on Friday, got worse over the weekend and died on Monday night. Mom was sick, nothing serious on Friday, got worse and died on Monday. Both died of sepsis from another presenting sickness. Cheryl left a husband of 26 years, two sons and one daughter. Mom left a husband of 27 years, three sons and one daughter. Cheryl youngest son is a freshman in high school, Mom's youngest as well. Both had wonderful friends and touched so many lives outside of her family. Both missionaries overseas and were defined by that experience. Both loved simply and deeply.
I am trying to unwrap the intensity of my response...and as I sat in Cheryl funeral I realized that it felt like I was going to my own mothers. You see, I never went to my Mom's funeral, it was too far away. My two older brothers and myself never had the opportunity to close the chapter on my Mom's story. That is what a funeral becomes, the epilogue to a life's story. I think that is why they are so important to attend and experience.
I was also so afraid that this family would experience the same loneliness that attended me not only after my Mom's death as well as after Curtiss'. In both of these deaths I was far away from any family. I was just newly married with Curtiss and hardly knew his family. When Curtiss died, I had no family at all. I was so very alone in these journeys so when Cheryl died I became panicky for this family. This family could not be more surrounded though with a strong family and dynamic community of faith. This is family that is strongly held within a community not only of a blood, but two church communities and a school community that has and will continue to invest in this broken family. Nothing will aleviate the silence of the months to come and the intensity of loss and grief, but in it all there is a lot holding this family together.
It has been a hard week...and as much as I tasted the grief, it is not mine. Of this I am grateful, for I am sure as I am for all of us...it will come soon enough.