Lessons in stillness

"Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes."
Psalm 37:7

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During Lent, the stillness in our souls can become fertile soil. In this calmness, our hearts and minds grow incredibly receptive to the rhythms of God already beating in our hearts. In these secret places, I am seeing the importance of showing solidarity with other humans. These are a few ways I hope to do that:

Rice Bowls – As I introduce fasting in this season as a discipline of solidarity, this program (Operation Rice Bowl) makes that practice reflective, communal and intentional. It also includes bits of almsgiving.

Prayer – I’m captivated by prayer. I believe wholeheartedly that in a world where we are often hopeless, prayer increases our strength, faith and endurance. During this time, it is a beautiful thing to make ourselves less important and to focus on the needs of others. Prayer is a quieting and restorative way to do that.

Turning off the TV – I won’t go so far to say I have (or can) give this up for Lent, but I’m definitely trying. I’ve cracked a few times, but am thinking about why I watch certain programs and whether they are life-giving. The resulting silence has made me realize a few things:

1. Our culture is drunk on celebrity. I felt so out of touch when I didn’t watch Grey’s Anatomy on time. (Full disclosure: I caved this weekend.)
2. TV is a quick-fix for my loneliness. I turn it on to feel like there’s another voice around.
3. It is an effective numbing agent. My brain is already so stimulated and analytical and this new silence doesn’t exactly quiet all my thoughts. Sometimes, I uncomfortable around myself.
4. Conversely, it has birthed beautiful moments of calm – especially in the morning as I get ready for my day. I drive to work with noticeably more peace.

Asking difficult questions – I am attempting to wrestle with these things, and I encourage all of you to join the dialogue too. Journal or comment or pray over them if you like.

How am I intentionally observing Lent?
Are my efforts designed to honor God or to prove that I can “do” something challenging?
What issues or discomforts do I have with tithing?
Why do I/should I fast?
What did Christ experience in this time leading up to his crucifixion? What parallels are there in my life? In the lives of the poor in my midst?

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"In the face of the terrible challenge of poverty afflicting so much of the world's population, indifference and self centered isolation stand in stark contrast to the 'gaze' of Christ. Fasting and almsgiving, which together with prayer, the church proposes in a special way during the Lenten Season, are suitable means for us to become conformed to this 'gaze'. "
Pope Benedict XVI

On Skittles, Mathematics and Lent

40 feels like a good number. It’s nice and even. It’s easy to divide into segments…2’s, 4’s, 5’s.

I may sound like a mathematician, but my brain has an interesting relationship with numbers. I like breaking them apart and adding them up.

Once upon a time, as a kid, I’d lie in bed at night scrutinizing the electric red numbers on my PJ Jammer alarm clock. At 9:35 I’d wait for the minute to change to the neat little numerical addition of 9:36. (9 = 3 + 6 and all.) All the fun got repeated at 9:45 and 9:54, if I was awake.

When I eat Skittles, I grab a handful and arrange them in a pyramid based on how many of each color I have. 1 red at the top, 2 orange below, 3 purples on the bottom. If my shape is off, I eat the excess candies in color order first to complete the figure. (This is problematic in movie theatres and other dark spaces.)

When I run, numbers constantly swirl through my head. I divide the progress in my head: ¼ done. .3 miles until the next marker. 5 minutes left.

My brain just loves it when things are able to be broken down into numbers. Something about it makes sense and soothes me…like all is right with the world.

Dear readers, all this numerical neuroses today is not for nothing. It is to say: I’ve been practicing my whole life for Lent.

See, Lent is this beautiful season in our faith that chunks life up nicely. 40 days to see how things add up. 40 days to get rid of the extra pieces around the shape of my life. 40 days to gauge my progress.

While today is the start of the “official” church process, I’m impatient, so God and I talked this out last month and agreed on an early start.

Following my birthday, life got to be too gray and murky for my comfort. I found myself needing to escape and find clarity, to be with nature and my thoughts. You’ve seen some of the evidence here in my photographs and intentional celebrations with friends. These were efforts to slow down and see God.

Those uncomfortable feelings in January have led me to a beautiful place of intentional solitude - a place where I am learning new things about God and myself and interceding for my friends. It is a place in my heart that God is winnowing out where I am present and there is space in abundance.

So here I am - smack dab in the middle of a 40 day reflection just a little ahead of schedule, and you know what? It feels soothing. I’m glad I started early. I feel like I see colors more clearly. I’m even more honest with my friends. I’m experiencing community with greater intensity.

Today is Day 29 and so far, I’m seeing the Skittles line up. (You knew I’d get back to this.)

See, ever since I can remember, I haven't really liked yellow or green candies. It’s a quirk that hasn’t died in mature adulthood. So when I started thinking about patterns and numbers today, it struck me that I’ve spent the last 28 days proverbially tossing out the yellows and greens.

I’m making sense of the good colors and seeing the shape that they take. And only time will tell whether I’m crafting a pyramid or a circle.

As we are meant to be

I’m becoming a voyeur again.

Maybe it’s the gorgeous weather (seriously, 60 tomorrow?!?) or the amazing new people I’ve met (I love new perspectives), but I'm seriously staring. A lot. In inopportune places.

I went through a phase like this last year when the weather got nice again and my pen was flowing into my journal with flood-like intensity. At that time I wrote a lot about new ideology that challenged me, habits I was trying to correct or huge things I was trying to do.

This time, it’s tending toward simple revelations about God's presence in all of us.

On Sunday I wrote little 4 and 5 line poems about the people surrounding me. Their attitudes, their leanings, their desires. I made up whole lives and stories for complete strangers. Something about the exercise made me feel closer to them…like I could see their humanity and maybe identify with them in the same way God does. All those words and all the feeling it stirred up got me wondering…

What does God see when He looks at us?

I think he sees a multitude of beautiful and true things: Good intentions. Deeply hidden darkness. Dreams yet unrevealed. Beauty that has existed since the womb. Fissures about to crack. Bits of potential ready to be unleashed.

He sees us as we are.

I thought about this as I watched a woman eating lunch today. She couldn’t find a seat in the food court, so she stood up and ate her Taco Bell ravenously. Her bags slipped off her shoulders. She craned her neck to the side, holding the straps up while her hand remained free to shovel in food. She didn't have the time to set down her bag.

I bet she finished eating in 3 minutes, furiously wrapping up her papers, racing back to her desk to workworkworkwork.

We are not made to exist like that.

God does not see us as vessels of productivity that should eat standing up.

“O, Lord, you searched me
and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.”
Psalm 139:1-2

All this watching makes one strangely present to those around us. It enlarges our hearts and makes us recognize our brethren. It leads to wishes and desires for humanity.

May we see others as God does. May we know how God sees us. Pure. Beautiful. Loved. Treasured. Good enough.

Today's Soundtrack: Favorite - Neko Case - Live from Austin

Running the Rift

I've been running since last Fall and am looking forward to training for a few more 5K's this spring. I puruse a few running sites and found this riveting and hopeful story that combined two things I love - running and Kenya.

Most people know that world-class runners come from Kenya. I even had a few trip supporters ask me if this is because they run from lions with regularity. Though I can't speak to that, I'm sure if you're a masaai the thought of a hungry lion would make you think about taking up the sport.

Anyhow, the group Chasing KIMbia has set up a video documentary that follows 5 runners in Kenya as they train for a variety of races. They delve into the mindset of athletes from other parts of the world...

"But what really motivates the athlete? Kenyan culture is much different than that in the United States. So is it the money? Winning the marathon in a fast time can earn the athlete several hundred thousand dollars. That is a lot of money in Kenya. But earning too much money too fast can cause an athlete to lose focus. Perhaps it is the fame, which elevates the athlete to a position of power. Kenya is still a developing country where the majority of the population lives in poverty and the biggest threats are malaria, HIV/AIDS, and poor education. A marathon champion can leverage his success to implement change, as Paul Koech has done with Silgich Hill Academy Primary School."

It's just perfect that Koech turned his running into something bigger. Anyhow, the site and video are worth a look, even if you aren't a runner.

Highlights include: singing schoolchildren, jumping Masaai warriors and a good overall picture of the spirit of Kenya.

Happy watching...

Spreading the love

Although the chilly winter weather in the Midwest isn't a warm harbinger of this V-Day, I'm all sorts of brimming with love today.

You see, dear readers, I have quite a few valentines in my life.

Now, before you start thinking that I'm "that" kind of girl, you should know that I'm spending this Valentine evening with all the people I love best in this world.



One of my lovely friends has decided to eschew the traditional heartfest (read: singles feeling lonely, marrieds feeling pressured) in a dinner celebration that gathers us all around the same table. We'll be spreading the love and rejoicing in all the ways God has touched our lives and made us bearers of His love.

What a beautiful idea.

"Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired." Mother Teresa

Today's Soundtrack: Valentine, NE - Rachel Ries - For You Only

Tying the strings together

As of late, I’m finding myself captivated by stories of people willing to sacrifice physical comfort, material wealth and security to journey beside the suffering. Though I don’t know these two men (Daily Life, Journeying with Exiles), I can’t believe their commitment to live a life of compassion. It’s awing and humbling.

I was trying to think through why I was so riveted by these people’s lives and missions. I’ve always had a particularly sensitive spot for the homeless, but that wasn’t it. I guess when I read their thoughts on service and I can feel the compassion seeping out through their words.

It plucks at my heartstrings. It is reminiscent of my own story.

Quite simply, compassion is the overflowing of love, and love was precisely what drove me to Kenya, though I didn’t understand it at the time.

My online brother states it so beautifully…

“What I want is for you to be so overwhelmed by the wonder of God's love that it overflows out of you and leads you naturally to those who are the most desperate for that love, to those who are, literally, dying without it. If guilt is what motivates you, then the chances are that what you do won't be that meaningful, and it probably won't be something you end up doing for any sustained amount of time. But if love is what motivates you, then I think the world will be transformed and you will be able to remain in hard places because you delight in the company of God's beloved -- the 'lost sheep' and the 'least of these.” (Italics mine)

I shiver when I read those words. I AMEN wholeheartedly, for I too believe in the power of love.

I am convinced that overflowing love can bring spiritual deliverance, heal the sick, comfort the poor, mend decimated hearts, rebuild nations, cultivate peace and generally bring heaven to earth.

This world is not a place that perpetuates that belief. Our entire lives and work environments are organized to conform to the ideology that power triumphs. The idea that love, a weak and vulnerable gesture, could really change things is just so counter to how we’re wired.

We are deceived into thinking that we must hoard our good things. We believe that must not show weakness. We feel that we must not be the last.

But there comes a point in our deepening lives as Christians that Jesus’ words of over-the-top, unabashed love simply become a part of you. You wake up one morning and say that the world is wrong. You will find that you have a fire in your belly to feed his sheep (John 21:18), to prove that those who mourn WILL be comforted (Matthew 5:4) and to demonstrate compassion lived out (Matthew 15:32).

This looks so different for everyone, but I know one thing with all certainty: When God moves in our lives and asks us to be his hands and his feet, it is as a result of a love bubbling up in our hearts that we are asked to go, not because of guilt that eats away at us.

I could have gone to Kenya because I felt guilty. As an American, there's a lot to feel guilty for. Hell, I may have even raised the money and gotten there, but I would have only been half-present while I was there. For those people beside me this summer, they'll know I've never been more alive and present.

At the time, I didn’t understand why I felt so much for a people I’d never even met. I mean, I simply couldn’t fathom the reality of their world. But I knew that a love and curiosity and passion simply manifested itself in my life and I had done nothing to create it. I woke up one morning and it was there, just as if my hair color had changed or I’d grown an extra limb.

It was not the outgrowth of guilt. It was not a product of any “good Christian service.”

It was the creation of a new kind of love.

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." John 13:34-35

Breathe

There's a lot inside of me. I like to think it's mostly good (at least the inquisitive, hopeful, hungry and seeking parts) but the truth is, my brain likes to hover on what's bad in those moments too. And there we have the perpetual problem of the seeker: Healthy seeking turns in to self-doubt. Self-discovery lends itself to knit-picking and pervasive guilt.

But age brings wisdom. In these moments, I've come to realize that the worst ways to think are either: at home alone, over copious amounts of alcohol or with strangers. So I've learned to get out and be by myself, call the people who know me best or surround myself with peaceful things and familiar places.

Left to my own solo desires, I usually head to a museum. When I'm in a place with that much energy and creativity, I feel like I have space to breathe and sort through my thoughts.

I am free to ramble from gallery to gallery slowly, walking through the stale museum air, simply wondering about things. Thoughts are allowed flit across my brain without the pressure to be made complete.

Inevitably, without direction, my feet lead me to the room where I come to find home. My eyes rest upon Monet's gigantic waterlilies at Giverny for a few intentional minutes, and as is its custom, it will remove the fogginess.

In the rush of clarity, I marvel at all the things that would be possible if I wasn't so afraid of my own power. I open my heart and let it gush into my journal, leaving what needs to be left in the airy openness of the Impressionist wing.

And then I pop through the revolving doors, breathing in the clean, crisp air on the front lawn and take all that hope and life and creation out with me.

Once there, I dream.

That I'll see Europe. Fall boldly, unabashedly in love. Learn the meaning of stillness. Forgive myself. Create something epic. Grow comfortable with my own presence. Hold my own children. Recognize joy in the everyday. Build a home. Leave a legacy. Throw my spirit towards seeking God.

Waxing Poetic

I'm trying on poetry again.

When I was in high school it fit me like a baggy sweater that I hadn't grown into yet. Tried it on with boyfriends to find it too tight around the neck, too cold, leaving me sweating.

I've done a lot of living since then. I might know how to knit my own thing now.

Sunday's threads are woven below, with a suggested soundtrack:
Magic Hours - Explosions in the Sky - How Strange, Innocence

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Gradual

The frigid sky opens cautiously, as if
squinting to receive
the dawn’s orange welcome,
pulling up over the horizon.

Winter ushers in a
tentative beginning each day,
world still sleepy in
warm beds, wrapped in
cozy wombs…

fighting the arrival of Sunday and
the buzy ushering of visitors,
the last minute to-and-fro
of errand running before
succumbing to work’s obligations
tomorrow.

But that won't sully this morning.

That Kansas sky woke me up
to seek out ink-stained hands and
caffeinated supplies,
reminding me that any place
can feel like home,
but the heart recognizes
its melody in the familiarity of
a sunrise -
a pitch that cannot be replicated,
but is quietly discovered over time.

I wish that you...

were here today.

knew that when I think of you, I ache in a place reserved for motherhood.

are happy right now, in this very moment.

could know that love transcends continents.

might never know pain again.

I'm just saying...

1. Peace Be With You
As I’m sure you can tell from this space, I’ve been spending quite a bit of time in very intentional reflections. More thoughts will come about this new venture at the right time, but for now, I’m holding it tightly to my own little chest.

I will say this: It is worth the time to purposefully create spaces in your life for God to speak with you. Do whatever works for you - take some time away from work, go for a walk, visit a museum. Challenge yourself to do it alone and without noise. Ask God to visit you in these moments. I promise he does not disappoint.

2. Psalm 40:3
Dark Days - Fat Freddy’s Drop – Based on a True Story
Sometimes I get so obsessed with a song that I repeat it until even I get annoyed. Dark Days is one of those beautiful pieces that I love. Strings haunt me from the background, a light Seal-like lead singer croons over it all, and at the end it works up to this magical little synthesizer frenzy that I wish would last longer than it does. Le sigh.

Neko Case – Live from Austin
Neko has a new live album on iTunes and it’s SO worth picking up. She’s a siren and the woman can SANG. It’s even more evident without production noise around her.

Gold Lion – YeahYeahYeahs – Show Us Your Bones
I honestly didn’t think a woman could make the noise “oo-ooh, oo-ooh” over and over again and I’d love it so much. The stripped down drums remind me of something the White Stripes would’ve done, and it’s way different than Maps. This ditty has made it to the top of a new playlist appropriately titled “Fierce.” Enough said.

3. Affairs of State
I know I should be following every little political, erm, dropping that is plopping out of Washington these days, but I’d like to read the news without any Beltway Banter. Is that even possible anymore? To read an article that doesn’t have an expert telling me what to think?

Maybe I’m being rebellious, but I’m still trying to make up my mind about a few issues. Here’s what I know right now:
a. War is bad. Really, really bad.
b. Iraq is a quagmire.
c. We’re in a pissing match with Iran.
d. I’d like us to come home, take a timeout, and fix some domestic stuff (like education and health care).

Guys, last month’s remembrance of MLK made me yearn for the days of real discourse, intellect and collaboration. I pray that this New Year and the impending elections will bring it. I know it’s still early, but I DO see one democratic candidate that seems to be trying to bring clarity and I sense a peace and practicality that is refreshing in him.

Let’s see what you’ve got, Barack.