A facebook friend posted this on his wall:
A Franciscan benediction
May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen
& i smiled & added my amen too.
Neil is often teasing me - that for someone so sensitive to rejection, i sure picked a tough topic to be passionate about, (in my compassion for the unborn). It seems like being a Christian these days opens you up to all kinds of false accusations of intolerance, hatred, ignorance and fear... & it's hard to silence your desire to defend yourself, and to search only for Truth amidst the anger and hurt that pervades our current cultural climate.
The littles & i have been reading Job this past while... & it struck me this time through - how hard it must have been for Job to lose, (on top of everything else), his spotless reputation. Before, he had been the kind of guy who was sought out for his opinions... he was the kind who cared for the fatherless and the poor, he was the kind of guy who offered sacrifices for his kids, "in case they sinned" while he wasn't watching... & suddenly - when he was afflicted - everyone was quick to believe that he must have done something wrong. i don't think that part of the story had ever been impressed on me before... i thought of the disappointment of losing riches, the grief of losing children, the agony of the loss of physical health... but to lose your reputation too on top of it all, knowing that you had done nothing to deserve it - that must've stunk.
Jesus was no stranger to false accusations either... & He was perfect, sinless... a spotless sacrificial lamb... & it wasn't by accident that he was attacked in every possible way - physically, spiritually, mentally - his reputation was scorned & even now, i hear people scoff at my King - & mock Him for claiming to be the son of God. It was prophesied years before he was even born, that this was going to be his fate... It says in Isaiah 53,
3 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
4 Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.
& now... i know that sometimes the half-truths would be easier to swallow. i see so many who, like me, are uncomfortable with rejection & false accusations. We wanna bend - to say, "Yes well... maybe that's not sin then... for you... in your circumstance. i don't want you to hurt so i'll give you a comforting half-truth and in return you'll not call me a bigot, misogynist, hateful, hurtful Christian..."
But no...
Our job is to gently, lovingly - humbly... speak truth... despite the labels, despite the rejection, despite the discomfort.
i'm sure that's how God must feel when He corrects us. It's humbling as a child to be taken out of a situation where you're making a little fool of yourself (i'm remembering my childhood more than my children's) - & corrected... & i know it has been embarrassing as an adult, to have my bad behaviour become so obvious when God has (in His great mercy) corrected me. But God offers us direction & correction because He loves us and He wants to protect us. He doesn't want a woman to live in grovelling fear & shame for the rest of her life over the heartbreaking decision of abortion, but He wants to bring her Home, to set her apart, He longs to protect us from our own selves & our own evil choices.
So, today i took it as a tiny blessing when i read that Franciscan Benediction above, that can i see that i *do* have that ounce of foolishness that would allow me to believe that maybe God can use me to make a small difference in this world... & so i'll take up my cross & follow.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
tweaking our sorrows
i realized something the other day - in my search for JOY.
i realized that something that is stealing my joy is my tendency to want to "tweak" my sorrows.
"Oh, God - i could handle this sorrow... if only i didn't have to deal with X... Could you substitute illness instead of rejection? Physical pain for emotional hurt? i'll take humility, but leave me my reputation?"
It doesn't matter what kind of sorrow we're given - you can't compare or measure... a friend of mine told me that her husband who is wheelchair bound had said, "i can handle the chair... but i wish i could use my hands..."
& isn't that how it is in our pain?
We look for a little relief - some way that would make our circumstances tolerable, more bearable, a little easier...
For me... i went through my little list of sorrows in my head & saw that i kept thinking, "i could handle this, if only..."
& i spent so much time thinking about the "if only"... that i was missing the reality - that i can't tweak my sorrows. They were measured out for me in the exact number and order that they were intended.
Sitting in the Good Friday service at church, with everyone around me standing, i was listening to the decades married couple singing behind me. Their voices were soft, but i could hear every breath and promise as they sang the words of faith in unison. The sound of their voices blessed me - with words of the old story that had brought us together on this Friday morning... knowing that Sunday comes. The woman beside me quit singing - & softly cried until i thought i would burst if i didn't grab her & cry with her... but she was older with fancy diamonds on her hands... & i was too shy... & the pastor was already beginning to speak - so instead i just prayed for us both - to be able to receive without tweaking - the faith building tests that our Father has provided.
So no more... no more, "i could have handled this better if..."
More of Him, less of me... the whole, 'i can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.' That's the scripture that i'm gonna allow to reverberate truth through me this year.
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. - james1:2-5
i realized that something that is stealing my joy is my tendency to want to "tweak" my sorrows.
"Oh, God - i could handle this sorrow... if only i didn't have to deal with X... Could you substitute illness instead of rejection? Physical pain for emotional hurt? i'll take humility, but leave me my reputation?"
It doesn't matter what kind of sorrow we're given - you can't compare or measure... a friend of mine told me that her husband who is wheelchair bound had said, "i can handle the chair... but i wish i could use my hands..."
& isn't that how it is in our pain?
We look for a little relief - some way that would make our circumstances tolerable, more bearable, a little easier...
For me... i went through my little list of sorrows in my head & saw that i kept thinking, "i could handle this, if only..."
& i spent so much time thinking about the "if only"... that i was missing the reality - that i can't tweak my sorrows. They were measured out for me in the exact number and order that they were intended.
Sitting in the Good Friday service at church, with everyone around me standing, i was listening to the decades married couple singing behind me. Their voices were soft, but i could hear every breath and promise as they sang the words of faith in unison. The sound of their voices blessed me - with words of the old story that had brought us together on this Friday morning... knowing that Sunday comes. The woman beside me quit singing - & softly cried until i thought i would burst if i didn't grab her & cry with her... but she was older with fancy diamonds on her hands... & i was too shy... & the pastor was already beginning to speak - so instead i just prayed for us both - to be able to receive without tweaking - the faith building tests that our Father has provided.
So no more... no more, "i could have handled this better if..."
More of Him, less of me... the whole, 'i can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.' That's the scripture that i'm gonna allow to reverberate truth through me this year.
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. - james1:2-5
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
letting the neighbours in
Charter brought a friend over. It was the bewitching "cookie hour" - y'know that time of day when everyone is hungry and roaming the kitchen getting underfoot as you're trying to get supper on the table. The house quickly slides into a disgraceful state & the noise level climbs - babies cry, teens wanna listen to music & the middlies get hyper. The afternoon sun hits all your back windows in the thick of this so that you can see every speck of dust on your floor and every tiny finger print on every surface is so distinct - you could almost identify the difference between a grease smudge and a honey smudge if you could get your eyes to focus in your mid-afternoon brain-fog.
i was late getting supper into the oven & had my big girls helping me, peeling potatoes and carrots while Peyton cheerfully dj'd our afternoon, pumping Abba, Fiddler on the Roof and whatever else is in our current household top 40 through our house speakers.
It was getting out of control... & i knew it was when i heard one girl laugh, "Ahahahaa... It's a good thing Dad's not here." (Dad = the noise police).
i tried to flick the music a little softer, but their feet were pounding as they danced - hair flinging over shoulders. i glanced at Charter's friend - who comes from a family with 2 children - and wondered if i was gonna get in trouble for letting them listen to something inappropriate... (dang - why do all the songs on the radio these days have to have swears in them??) i furrowed my brows... what must he think of our cookie hour chaos? i imagined his mama pulling their dinner out of the oven with classical music wafting through the house... her two boys - showered & fully clothed - (Ephraim is wearing his undies & the snot is flowing down his sweet little chin...) What a little side show we must be to the little ones from our neighbourhood who come in when i'm not ready - and see the dirty underbelly of a family of 9...
Finally - it was as if we had entered the frenzy stage... i had to literally duck in my own kitchen and grab the baby who had stumbled under the dancing hoofs of the others - someone was banging erratically on the piano - & i swear every child was shouting out every word in ecstatic glee to the chorus of "the hamster dance"... i was sure that Neil could hear us in Saskatchewan & i was going to get an irritated text about it any moment.
The song ended, and the littles collapsed in giggling heaps - i grabbed the volume knob and gave it a hefty turn to the left.
In that tiny moment of calm, Charter's friend - as if to assuage my worry said, "You guys think this is crazy? You should see my house... our dog can dance."
Is it bad that i'm relieved he wasn't impressed?
But y'know as much as i suck at "people"... i *know* beyond a shadow of a doubt that people are important.
i wanna be that mama that always welcomes another pair of feet under her table.
i wanna have the house where the children want to be.
i wanna be the house where there might be chaos, but there's love... where there might be mess, but there's laughter, where there might be tears, but there's forgiveness & relationship.
So throw wide the doors that would keep curious eyes out & the fear & shyness that would try to keep a tight reign on mama's little kingdom.
We've got a love to share & it won't be shared if we don't ever let the neighbours in.
**********************************88
ps - i want to clarify that this isn't my reflex. My reflex is to tell my little ones friends to go home. My reflex is to say, "not today... not right now... can we not have anyone over? Ever?" But every year, i get a little better, a little more intentional, a little softer to the ones that my Father gently brings to my door. i'm a slow-poke, but i'm learning stretching and growing - and grateful for my Papa who is showing me how...
i was late getting supper into the oven & had my big girls helping me, peeling potatoes and carrots while Peyton cheerfully dj'd our afternoon, pumping Abba, Fiddler on the Roof and whatever else is in our current household top 40 through our house speakers.
It was getting out of control... & i knew it was when i heard one girl laugh, "Ahahahaa... It's a good thing Dad's not here." (Dad = the noise police).
i tried to flick the music a little softer, but their feet were pounding as they danced - hair flinging over shoulders. i glanced at Charter's friend - who comes from a family with 2 children - and wondered if i was gonna get in trouble for letting them listen to something inappropriate... (dang - why do all the songs on the radio these days have to have swears in them??) i furrowed my brows... what must he think of our cookie hour chaos? i imagined his mama pulling their dinner out of the oven with classical music wafting through the house... her two boys - showered & fully clothed - (Ephraim is wearing his undies & the snot is flowing down his sweet little chin...) What a little side show we must be to the little ones from our neighbourhood who come in when i'm not ready - and see the dirty underbelly of a family of 9...
Finally - it was as if we had entered the frenzy stage... i had to literally duck in my own kitchen and grab the baby who had stumbled under the dancing hoofs of the others - someone was banging erratically on the piano - & i swear every child was shouting out every word in ecstatic glee to the chorus of "the hamster dance"... i was sure that Neil could hear us in Saskatchewan & i was going to get an irritated text about it any moment.
The song ended, and the littles collapsed in giggling heaps - i grabbed the volume knob and gave it a hefty turn to the left.
In that tiny moment of calm, Charter's friend - as if to assuage my worry said, "You guys think this is crazy? You should see my house... our dog can dance."
Is it bad that i'm relieved he wasn't impressed?
But y'know as much as i suck at "people"... i *know* beyond a shadow of a doubt that people are important.
i wanna be that mama that always welcomes another pair of feet under her table.
i wanna have the house where the children want to be.
i wanna be the house where there might be chaos, but there's love... where there might be mess, but there's laughter, where there might be tears, but there's forgiveness & relationship.
So throw wide the doors that would keep curious eyes out & the fear & shyness that would try to keep a tight reign on mama's little kingdom.
We've got a love to share & it won't be shared if we don't ever let the neighbours in.
**********************************88
ps - i want to clarify that this isn't my reflex. My reflex is to tell my little ones friends to go home. My reflex is to say, "not today... not right now... can we not have anyone over? Ever?" But every year, i get a little better, a little more intentional, a little softer to the ones that my Father gently brings to my door. i'm a slow-poke, but i'm learning stretching and growing - and grateful for my Papa who is showing me how...
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
here i am to worship
i lead the music at our church sometimes...
Having to discipline myself to come to my piano - to work, to pray, to weep, to sing - to prepare to lead, has been a huge blessing to me. Especially in these past months when my inclination might be to let silence reign. The first notes & chords are often tentative - but then i find that i can't help but to be drawn in to sincere praise & worship of my King.
Today - i'm getting this sore throat & i'm tired & neil's gone again... but i pulled out music - sifting, sorting, praising... & then i started to sing one old song. & even now, i feel the tug in my very soul as i think about the words...
o... how i love Jesus...
& that's just what it comes down to isn't it?
i love Him - because He's worthy...
& i believe that He loves me & has allowed nothing to separate us.
Nothing.
i love that scripture, "For i am convinced... that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
i'm His girl.
Resting in that today.
Having to discipline myself to come to my piano - to work, to pray, to weep, to sing - to prepare to lead, has been a huge blessing to me. Especially in these past months when my inclination might be to let silence reign. The first notes & chords are often tentative - but then i find that i can't help but to be drawn in to sincere praise & worship of my King.
Today - i'm getting this sore throat & i'm tired & neil's gone again... but i pulled out music - sifting, sorting, praising... & then i started to sing one old song. & even now, i feel the tug in my very soul as i think about the words...
o... how i love Jesus...
& that's just what it comes down to isn't it?
i love Him - because He's worthy...
& i believe that He loves me & has allowed nothing to separate us.
Nothing.
i love that scripture, "For i am convinced... that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
i'm His girl.
Resting in that today.
Monday, April 2, 2012
behind the beat
i'm that kind of a musician who defaults to behind the beat... Y'know there are some who anticipate, or who remain rigid to the rhythm of the piece of music played - but when i play with a rhythm section who knows what they're about... my inclination is to lean back - kind of like that game of, "trust" where you fall back & count on the others to catch you.
i was thinking about this the other day when i was listening to the radio & one vocalist was lazily leaning back on the rhythm of the song. i could picture her in my head - leaning back until the music caught her as she floated gently backwards - landing on the beat & carried along by it in kind of a woozy gentle melodic throb.
i think playing behind the beat is my default in life too. Everything is always happening too fast for me. Neil makes quick decisions - and i need to think and absorb. i'll let the time get away on me - and need to consciously force myself to watch themetronome clock - so that i don't get too far behind.
& then on years like this one... the rhythm hardly means anything at all... & the whole song becomes rubato... all aching melody - single notes extended & others nearly neglected in this strange grieving tune.
i'm leaning back... way back... & waiting for the rhythm section to come in. Rescue me, throbbing pulse of real life, let me feel the swing of the music as it shifts into a different interlude and i'm carried into a different, less painful - section of my opus.
i was thinking about this the other day when i was listening to the radio & one vocalist was lazily leaning back on the rhythm of the song. i could picture her in my head - leaning back until the music caught her as she floated gently backwards - landing on the beat & carried along by it in kind of a woozy gentle melodic throb.
i think playing behind the beat is my default in life too. Everything is always happening too fast for me. Neil makes quick decisions - and i need to think and absorb. i'll let the time get away on me - and need to consciously force myself to watch the
& then on years like this one... the rhythm hardly means anything at all... & the whole song becomes rubato... all aching melody - single notes extended & others nearly neglected in this strange grieving tune.
i'm leaning back... way back... & waiting for the rhythm section to come in. Rescue me, throbbing pulse of real life, let me feel the swing of the music as it shifts into a different interlude and i'm carried into a different, less painful - section of my opus.
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