Single in the Suburbs

Decidedly Absent

2007-09-23T11:21:00.000-05:00

Well, the time has come to fully embrace and admit that I am completely uninspired to blog.

For months, I've been trying to make excuses for it - it's summer, I'm just busy moving and settling into a new house, yada yada yada. The reality is if I keep blogging it is simply to keep something fresh on the page and not because I have anything worthwhile to say.

So, dear friends, it's time for me to say...I won't be around much anymore.

However, facebook (the place for connection with little profound thought needed :) has become a guilty connection pleasure...so, please, friend me and say hello.

September 11, 2007

2007-09-11T23:05:00.000-05:00

Every time I saw the date today, I couldn't help remembering that day with melancholy. The remembering has led me to reflect on just how much my thoughts have changed since then.

On that morning my mind was consumed with getting seventh and eighth graders to put together inspired, creative ideas in coherent written form. The incomprehensible news that a plane had flown into the twin towers turned the rest of the day into a balancing act of dealing with shock and keeping a reasonable amount of "business as usual" in order to help young emotions from spiraling out of control. I remember people questioning the meaning of it all and wondering how my actions, skills, or will power could convey hope to lost souls.

Today, I was pondering the importance of Christ's redeeming grace for InterVarsity staff as I worked on our National Staff Conference. I was also considering the source of Truth by reading articles on sola scriptura and the inerrancy of the Bible as I prepared for the theology class I'm auditing. I could never have imagined space, context, or time for these kind of thoughts to fill my day before. But, after being steeped in an environment of Christian truths, I'm beginning to fully comprehend that my actions, skills, or will power will never be enough - it is Christ's sacrifice alone that brings us hope.

Considering sudden and unexpected life changes has made me grateful for the ways God grows and stretches us...for the blessings and struggles in life that lead us towards considering our complete dependence on His love and providence. May His grace and sovereignty continue to inspire and amaze!

The pictures I wish I could have taken

2007-08-26T21:40:00.000-05:00

Africa seems so far away again. I've been back in "real life" for several weeks now, and I must resort to looking at pictures to even believe I really made the trip. But there are so many pictures I wish I could have taken...the images that are the true experience - the moments that went too fast or were too personal to pull out a camera. In order not to forget the moments, I'll share my "snapshots" with you here.

(Hope you don't mind the long stories as I show you my slides on the sheet in my living room after dinner).

Here is the moment when I got off the plane and realized I was in a truly foreign place:
Speeding down the left side of the "paved" road in a vintage Fiat (the taxi from the airport), I look out on the cracked sidewalk where people are everywhere selling various items on top of plywood boxes - sitting on the curb. I see a woman in a bright yellow skirt carrying a large bowl of oranges on her head. (Behind my "camera" I smile and can't believe I really see her - that I'm not watching some Hollywood dramatization of Africa).

(this is not that street, but the same city - in a much nicer part of town)

Waking up the first morning in Tete where my friend lives:
The sun is casting an orange glow into the window and the digital travel alarm says it's 5:45 am local time. Outside, three roosters are crowing and I wander out to the kitchen. I hear a strange song over distant loud speakers - it must be the Muslim call to prayer. The rooster crows each time the canter pauses. Later in the day, I look out the kitchen window past the courtyard and see African men walking in the street on their way to work with their white button shirts and dark pants or ladies carrying various loads on their heads with bright colored skirts. The enormous rooster is still crowing as he stands looking over the world on the tree branch overhead. Occasionally I can hear a truck going by with people singing, Mary tells me they are on their way to a grave sight (I hear at least one of these each day).

And this is a village outside of Tete:

Behind me is a cluster of round clay huts with grass roofs. In front of me is a garden where the kids are learning to farm and a song bird has just flown away, flashing its brilliant blue striped wings. About ten feet to my right is a mother goat with her kid munching on falling leaves. I am listening to my friends speaking Portuguese to the village elders who smile at me (the foreign "amiga"), pat their hands together, give a slight bow with their head, and say "Bom Dia" in soft melodic tones. I can hear the laughter and splashing of these kids at the well. They are making their Saturday morning chores a little more fun; however, when they pose for the picture they must present a serious face.

Sitting in a deli having lunch:

I watch two adolescent children out on the sidewalk holding out their hands to people passing by. Standing with them are two women - the women are stooped over with a hand on the child's shoulder. The children run up to people and the women stumble along. Mary explains that the children's job is to beg for these blind women - "I wish I could get the kids in our school." On our way out Mary pats the young girl's shoulder and places a coin in each of the out-stretched hands.

On the road to Beira:

A boy about the age of six, maybe 3.5 feet tall, carries a silver pail full of gravel on his head. He's covered in dust and his cloths are in rags. My friend says, "That's childhood labor. The people over there on the side of the road are making gravel by hammering stones."
Several young boys (entrepreneurs) are standing on the side of the road throwing dust into the air. Mary says, "those boys are fixing the potholes in the road for us. We're supposed to stop and pay them. Of course, they'll take the dirt out of the hole once we pass by." The sound of indignant shouts blow into the open windows as we pass without paying the toll.
Up ahead is a white minivan (cross country transportation) piled inside with people - piled on top with cargo - including a live goat strapped on its side. The goat lifts its head every once in awhile to look around.
On the side of the road as we pass through villages, people are holding up live chickens by the feet - in case we want to buy them for our dinner as there are no restaurants for miles and miles.

On the beach in Beira:

The Indian Ocean stretches in front of me as my feet dig into the brown sugar sand. The stray dog who ran up to us with his ribs and tail wagging is showing us the way as he walks us down the beach.

Men are rowing out in their hand carved wooden boats to check their nets while still more men are walking the rope up the beach - hauling in their catch of the day. Close to the waves is a beautiful white crane - his white feathers blowing in the wind as he fishes, then there's a flash of yellow feet on the end of black legs as he flies away (even the sea birds are graceful here).

In the eyes and smiles of the Mozambicans I meet:

I see love and hospitality and hardship and pride. And I am honored to have seen images of immense beauty, struggle, and lives that are survived with plenty of love and laughter and by living each moment as it comes.

Photos taken by Stacey in Mozambique.

Life in the fast lane

2007-08-23T22:00:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note to say:

I LOVE DSL - It's so good to be back with my laptop and fast internet. I'm so excited to be able to lurk daily on all my favorite blogs and post a little more often.

Post to come soon: "The pictures I wish I could have taken"

Last Sunday

2007-08-12T20:09:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday...
I woke up in Hotel Ibis in Maputo, Mozambique
to the sound of the Muslim call to prayer
I went downstairs to a breakfast of scrambled eggs, hot dog like sausages,
and a fresh baked french role.

Last Sunday...
I looked down with embarrassment at my travel stained dress (the only skirt in my suitcase)
as I waited in the lobby for a Mozambican saint named Engracia who
(full of grace as her name portends)
kissed me - a complete stranger, simply a friend of her American colleague - on both cheeks,
loaded my suitcase in her SUV and drove me out to a village church in Matola
Where she assured me that no one would mind my soiled clothing
and suggested I put on a sweater as it was a chilly African-winter morning.

Last Sunday...
I was welcomed by strangers with beautiful dark skin and shining eyes.
They were dressed in honorary church clothing (blue skirt, white shirt, red collar and blue hat).
They called me the guest of honor
Sitting me in the front row
Having a translator tell me from the front what was being said and done

Last Sunday...
I couldn't stop a few tears from crawling down my cheeks
As the deep rich praises poured out of the throat of the song leader and were echoed
by an angelic chorus that found lines of harmonies far beyond the usual four
My heart weeped as the adult and youth choirs
Shuffled and danced up the aisle crying out to Jesus
As Engracia whispered song translations of the strong truth of the Spirit in my ears.

Last Sunday...
I cried out for revival in my own spirit
As the pastor told these people - who have suffered so much death, disease, poverty -
to look to Jesus who will bring healing and hope.

Last Sunday...
My bladder wished to dissuade my concentration as the service passed through one hour,
than two, than three
Until I finally dared to inquire about a toilet when people stood up to take communion
I was guided to a pit in the adjoining yard where gunny sacks hung on ropes for privacy
I went back in to join in the Eucharist with my brothers and sisters from across the world
Where I prayed for protection
as I drank kool aid made with unpurified water from previously used cups .
And I considered that there could be no better way for me to understand
the purifying blood of my Lord.
And I cried for the pain and suffering of the beloved souls around me
And for the lost souls of the ones I love and the ones I don't even know.

Last Sunday...
I learned what faith and fellowship and love truly is
And my heart yearns for the day when I can join with all the saints from all of the world
And sing out praises to the one on the throne who has given all
to us weary travelers with soiled skirts and broken hearts
Who are longing for our true home.

Photo from UNITED METHODIST REPORTER PHOTOS BY NANCY KRUH

The other side of the world

2007-08-07T04:44:00.000-05:00

From the moment I stepped off the plane in Maputo, my senses were stimulated by sights and sounds like no other. I can't wait to begin the process of etching my experience onto my brain by crafting my reflections into words that I'll share on this page over the next weeks.

Strangely, my most poignant moment of realizing I was on the other side of the world came towards the end of my journey after a long car ride through amazing Mozambican country.

Let me tell you the story:
As my feet prepared to elevate themselves
on the brown-toned, flowered bedspread of our Mozambican hotel room
(a double with 2 inches between the single beds),
My friend insisted those same soles
must again slip into my road-weary-red-dusted sandals on the tile floor and make haste outside
where there was something I simply had to see.

It was then that the whole world flipped upside down!
My feet, for the first time, trodded on a round globe instead of solid flat ground.
It happened right there on the crumbling sidewalk with holes that could swallow a small car.

I looked up into the dark night sky of the African city called Beira
(yes, I could see the stars & moon even on a city street)
And saw THE MOON STANDING ON HER HEAD.

She was wearing a black beanie on her white face
like she had just come from an artistic day in Paris
and wanted to say "Bom Dia" as she started her day before we went to sleep.

She also showed me that the stars that she was wearing on her head
Were all the latest rage that I had never seen before -
large brilliant designs with Venus (or some such gal) straight over head
(truly not her traditional place to be).

It was all too much -
I stood looking in awe with my mouth agape uttering silly phrases like
"Oh, that's so amazing...so weird...how can this work?"
As my feet flipped out from under me
Leaving my mind to stand on its head.

It's all OK now though as I can clearly see
the moon is again sitting right side up -
Shining in the brilliant blue of the sky outside the airplane window
as we approach the Great Lakes and my home.
Her white crescent hat is raucously tilted on her mysterious dark face.
She's a little confused about the time of day,
but that seems to be the mood of the day (night time? morning? hmm?)

Somehow, though, my feet are still trodding in far off places
On a newly rounded globe.

No Harry Potter spoken here, but maybe a little Portugeuse

2007-07-22T08:20:00.000-05:00

While I would love to be giving a pithy review of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I'm afraid I have not yet read even a whole page (the first paragraph was intriguing though). So PLEASE, PLEASE DO NOT TELL ME ANY PLOT DETAILS

Instead of reading this weekend, I have been in the midst of packing my apartment down three flights of stairs (yet again, sigh) so I can get rid of my horrendous commute and live closer to work. I'm also getting ready to hop onto a plane going to Mozambique, Africa (wahoo). One of my best friends is living in Mozambique working for the US government doing education against childhood labor. I'm going to be spending two wonderful weeks tailing her around her town and absorbing another part of God's creation and people. I CAN'T WAIT!!

Cursos felizes! May your travels in the next weeks be joyous and inspiring.

Why I Love Harry Potter

2007-07-10T21:29:00.001-05:00

OK, so I can't resist it. I've decided to embrace my geekhood to the fullest and admit that I'm so excited about the movie and book coming out that I could just spit.

So, here's the reason why this certified English teacher/children's librarian turned publisher's assistant just LOVES the books (and consequently can't resist the movies either).

Since I was a little girl, my very favorite past time was finding a book where I could become totally lost in another world. Some of my best memories are of hiding under my covers all day on Saturday exploring with Nancy Drew or running away to Mrs. Basil E. Franweiler's mixed-up files (and therefore the Metropolitan Museum). I was also delighted by grinning cats and an oompa loompa stirring up some chocolate.

Now, if I could find a castle to get lost in...oh, heaven!

Harry Potter brings me back to those days all over again. The castle is literally magical, and the characters are witty, gritty, and wonderfully like kids I know. There are unforeseeable events around every corner and J.K. Rowling is not afraid to wrestle with difficult social issues and emotional struggles.

I used to be bothered by the witchcraft that is the underbelly of the tales, but I have long since failed to notice it's there as these are superbly woven stories chock full of mythology and the battle against evil.

So, if there are any closet HP fans reading my blog, don't be afraid - go ahead and tell me the reasons you love Harry Potter too (and later we can discuss the merits of the movie on IMAX 3D!).

The Adventures of One Small Coin

2007-07-01T11:25:00.000-05:00

Photo of famous "Tribute Penny" - denarius of Tiberius (14-37 AD)

A young boy stood on the shores of the sea looking out at the waves. His father had sent him with this small coin to buy something to cheer him up. His father lectured him saying that they lacked nothing with all the favors Caesar would be giving them. But how could his father say that with his mother so sick she couldn’t get out of bed? The boy tossed the coin into the sea wishing that his sweet mama would recover.

The light glinted off of the silver coin catching the eye of a vigorous perch. He swam to the top of the wave and gobbled up the coin without thought. The shiny metal had a strange effect on the fish. He couldn’t swallow it, but had no wish to spit it out and suddenly felt compelled to swim to a far away place. He swam for several days across the Mediterranean Sea up a river to a smaller body of water. There he simply rested and waited.

Soon the fish saw a line dangling down. Even though his mouth was full, he felt compelled to take the bait and was pulled into a boat. The experienced hands of a fisherman named Peter took the coin out of his mouth exclaiming, “how could he have known?” Peter took the coin and gave it to the tax collectors as his master had instructed even though it was more than they usually paid. Matthew 17: 24-28

That same afternoon one of the Pharisees, in a stormy mood, walked by the tables where the taxes were being counted and snatched up a single denarius. He worried it in his fingers as he plotted to get rid of the troublesome upstart. He placed the coin in his purse where it stayed for several days until it was used as payment for young disciples of his own to trap the supposed teacher.

"Teacher," they said to him, "we know you are a man of integrity and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. You aren't swayed by men, because you pay no attention to who they are. Tell us then, what is your opinion? Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?"

But Jesus, knowing their evil intent, said, "You hypocrites, why are you trying to trap me? Show me the coin used for paying the tax." They brought him a denarius, and he asked them, "Whose portrait is this? And whose inscription?"
"Caesar's," they replied. Then he said to them, "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's.” Matthew 22: 15-22

In the single moment of turning the coin over in his fingers, Jesus saw a face of a small boy weeping over his mother’s bed in a far off city. He took pity on the boy and sent healing, knowing they would meet again someday – in another story.

After that, the coin passed from hand to hand to hand for many years over many miles. One day it fell off of a cart that sped down a dusty road and was ground deep into the earth until it was dug up hundreds of years later. It again traveled many miles across many waters until it reached its final resting place behind the glass in a museum where it was gazed upon by many wondering eyes of many people.

And the grey Saturday came when this storyteller walked into the museum off the Magnificent Mile. My eyes were captured by the coin’s silvery glint and into my mind came the echoes of the words, “Give unto Caesar what is Caesar’s.” And I wondered, “could His hand have touched this very coin?” And I somehow felt the mystery and the magic of the God become man.

Simply Single

2007-06-24T14:29:00.000-05:00

My life is very simple!

Please allow me to take you through my days:

On week day mornings, I get up and get ready for work, grabbing coffee and breakfast on the go so I can meet my carpool friend on time for the hour drive (well, actually the "stop and then go some" lurch) where I look forward to good conversation and music on the way.
I get to work and do whatever comes up for the day. It's hard to even describe the duties of a publisher's assistant. I do whatever is needed big or small. And, I generally enjoy a lot of diversity in tasks and the relationships with the great people who stay ever busy.
I eat lunch in with a regular small crowd of people (some of the crowd would look very familiar to those who regularly read my blog), or I go out with those friends who have flexible schedules like mine.
At the end of the day, I drive home and prepare for an evening of doing absolutely anything I want - surfing blogs, reading great meaningful books or (most of the time) fluffy fiction, watching movies or television, catching up with faraway family and friends on the phone.
Occasionally during the week, I have dinner with someone or attend some function. I may throw in some exercise now and then (here's hoping someday that becomes part of the routine again).
On weekends, I may go out and do something with a myriad of different people - ussually unplanned, nearly spontaneous activities. Or I may stay at home and clean, grocery shop, do laundry, do some more reading or watching, etc. On Sundays I go to my regular church or visit whatever other church may catch my interest that morning.

I was recently reminded by a weeks stint of house/dog/cat sitting that this laid back routine is not standard for everyone. Many people have several other bodies that require daily care and affection. They have many regular responsibilities and other opinions or needs that contribute to every decision.

At times, I envy those who have warm bodies constantly around, but lately I'm really loving the lifestyle of a carefree single woman. My schedule, money, affections are completely my own to give away, fritter or conserve at my discretion. Hopefully, I'm learning as life progresses to give all of those things to God and consistently invest in others. I'm truly thanking God for the life I lead. My Lord has blessed me by dropping enough variety in my lap to stave off boredom, constantly showing me in big and little ways how much he cares, and helping me see the blessings of the life kept simple and open to His leading.

In Real Space

2007-06-11T20:29:00.001-05:00

So why would a person spend hours in virtual space in front of a computer composing blogs?

To meet cool people of course!! (Well sometimes I like to think it's to be consistently writing and to communicate ideas - but that's just silly).

Last weekend I got to meet a kindred spirit from the east, Jennwith2ns, and discuss a little about life, face to face! We really had solved plenty of the world's problems until Craver swooped in with his camera crew and made all our brilliantly laid out plans fly away (really the picture wasn't staged - I promise :)

But, let me tell you, that Jenn's a wild woman (that's why we're keeping her face hidden here ;). I got to see those Wheaton windows she crawled out of where she faced down death without flinching. And I even watched her drink down the hottest Indian soup Madras Palace could offer - without crying.

Thanks Jenn for coming to see us (and for the the great coffee), and all the rest of you cool blog people come by any ol' time!

Surprises of maturity

2007-05-31T22:00:00.000-05:00

Two and a half years ago the Lord was preparing me to step off of the tightly held, self assured, personally created path for my life. Some of the letting go has been incredibly painful, and I've been looking back at some of the words I wrote during that time, such as the poem below:

Lament of the Old Maid
“Hope deferred makes the heart grow sick”

The rotting, stinking muscle inside my chest is barely flapping
Like a fish desperately catching its last breath

In its place is growing the black seed of doubt and despair
Crawling shoots of aloofness are spreading out to my limbs
If I could only keep all echoes of romance far from me,
I would sink into the oblivion of numb diversion

Love, as an essential element,
Could be soaked in from less dangerous places
It couldn't seep in through my pores
That would require the warm pressure
Or burning touch of a man

Love will have to become a stalwart inner strength,
a spiritual vigilance,
An escape into meaningful occupation
My fingers, that ache to touch human skin,
My shriveling heart that screams to serve and support a man
Will have to be scoured with pumice
Made busy in acts of service to all mankind

Maybe I’ll bathe in celebrations of womanhood
Rejoicing in other’s loves and families and touch
Act the part of intimate nursemaid…consummate friend
Vicarious need is better than none at all.

And if I sink into the tepid water of other’s joy
Those vines of apathetic numbness
Can just grow and grow
All hope and dreams will finally be in the grave
And the romantic heart will forever die
Until the limbs of the wise old crone move with the grace of serenity
And all burning desire is far, far from me

But of course those cursed gills keep sucking for one last breath!

Looking back at these words now, I'm truly in awe of what the Lord has done in my heart. I feared that embracing the single life would really mean just hardening my heart and bucking up. Now, I can see that the Lord has actually been expanding my heart to the point where I truly can rejoice in other's Godly love and delight in serving.

Now, I am learning that loosening my tight grip on my perceived dreams, results in surprising gifts from God that I never even would have imagined wanting.

I wonder what else in life might improve with the act of letting go?

Let's celebrate curves!

2007-05-21T22:09:00.000-05:00

...So, lately I've been thinking about fat - and people's bizzare hatred of this God given body element.

Why are we so obsessed with how much we weigh? I was recently listening to the Wake Up with Whoopi radio show (that's right I'm not afraid to admit I listen to Whoopi Goldberg on the lite radio station :) and she was interviewing the designer Bradley Bayou who has actually started creating fashion for the average size woman - that's right he designs cloths for people who wear size 14. Make sure you catch that - the average size for women is 14, not 4 or 6!

The same day I heard the show, I had a conversation with a very petite, beautiful woman who is convinced she looks horrible because she has gained weight. Now, I'm all for being comfortable in a weight you know is right for your health and well being, but the woman is adorable and convinced she looks awful.

That same week, I had dinner with another woman who is ample and alluring and believes she is beautiful, and it shows. As a matter of fact, she commands the attention of any man she shoots her smile at - and I love it!

How I wish I could convince women (including myself) to stop evaluating their beauty based on the placement of their curves (or lack thereof) . I know that I do not want to stand before my God at the end of my life with my cheeks burning in shame that I've been insulting His artistry in creating my body.

My sincere prayer is that we can strive for health and wellbeing while seeing great beauty in whatever shapes we're in.

Tagging along with Craver

2007-05-16T22:44:00.000-05:00

Can you believe it? Craver has succumbed to the dark side - tagging people in the blogosphere willy nilly when he claims he's not a tagger (I can prove he is - ask him about the painted walls in his old hood sometime). But when cravings call, I feel I must somehow answer. So here is my list of eight random facts about me - hopefully there will be one or two some of you don't know.

1. I spent the first 3 summers of my college years sleeping in tents in the wilds of Montana, white water rafting in Glacier National Park, and wrapping boa constrictors around my neck (all in a days work as a director of an outdoor camp).

2. I have never downhill skied even though I grew up in the Rocky Mountains.

3. My teaching career started in the amazing red mesas of Arizona on the Navajo Reservation. Although I started teaching Vacation Bible School at the age of 13 when I was motivated towards reservation work on short term missions to an Indian reserve in Saskatchewan.

4. My one trip off of this continent was to Northern Ireland. It was historically and geographically breathtaking along with being entirely unsettling seeing what hatred and long term unrest can look like.

5. I was a speech and debate coach for 5 years.

6. Some of my more precocious middle school students called me "Captain, My Captain" when they really wanted to make me smile or get me to say yes to something (you win the prize if you can name the movie the quote comes from - I showed parts of it at the beginning of every year for awhile).

7. I'm a total geeky sci-fi girl and Captain Picard is really the sexiest man who never lived.

8. I'm a rebel at heart. So I won't be following the meme and posting the rules of the game (they're on Craver's site if you want to see them). Nor will I be tagging my obligatory eight. However, if my PDX sisters (you know who you are), Becky, either Hsu, or Evanie wanted to play along, I sure would have fun reading what you had to say.

Would I do it all over again?

2007-05-13T22:49:00.000-05:00

At the age of 3, my mother presented me to a pastor to make the sign of the cross over my heart and forehead with a few drops of water. Somehow in those moments, Christ claimed me as His own and my heart has never been the same. Before my circuitous thoughts could take over my personality, my heart knew that Jesus Christ was the one true Lord. The God who came down from heaven and became one of us, to save us from ourselves...from our own depravity, greed, selfishness. I instinctively believed that the Creator of the Universe died our death for us and rose again from the dead so that we could live in eternity with Him.

Last week, as I was planning a conference meant for rejuvenation of my fellow sojourners (known as InterVarsity staff) and studied the book of Romans with some amazing people, I found myself thinking, "would I believe the story now as an adult who has been knocked around and disillusioned by life in so many ways? What makes me so sure that this Jesus is who He says He is?"

My life would be so different if I didn't believe. I would be seeking after a high powered, high paying second career. I would be spending time in a fancy downtown bar finding the man for the moment if I couldn't catch him for the lifetime. I would be considering finding a test tube to father a child so I could experience what it is like to be pregnant (who needs a man anyway?). My life would be so.....empty!

Because even though the Christian lifestyle can be so filled with doubt and seemingly pointless strivings toward a higher calling, it is a life that I live knowing that there really is an all powerful Spirit who loves me, listens to me, prepares a future home for me in heaven that is so much bigger than this life.

Would I do it all again...give my life to Jesus? The answer is an unequivocal, YES! My heart cries out with Peter, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."

Momentarily Absent

2007-05-07T20:10:00.000-05:00

I've been quite under the weather this last week, and I find that there are just no creative thoughts left in my head when my brain is being squeezed by hacking coughs and swollen sinuses. So, since I am leaving for business meetings in Denver for the rest of the week, I guess I'm officially (if involuntarily) taking a week off of blogging.

I'll miss reading all of your stimulating ideas but maybe I'll return with great insights (it could happen - we're looking at the book of Romans in depth :) At the very least I will return having seen my first pro baseball game and having a stadium dog (yay!).

Have a great week!

Am I Talking to Loud?

2007-04-28T18:45:00.000-05:00

"We learn during girlhood that our value lies not in our ability to think, reason and make informed decisions...we learn that our value lies in our appearance and ability to please others." ~ Stronger Than You Think, Chapter 3

I have always been a girl who knew how to speak my mind. Hopefully I'm not abrasive or loud in my thoughts (although I'm certainly a verbal processor), but I know how to say no, I like to have discussions on controversial topics, I actually answer truthfully once in awhile when someone asks how I'm doing, and I'll sometimes give difficult feedback when the truth is more encouraging than placation.

Perhaps this comes from a girlhood of knowing that my "appearance and ability to please" weren't getting me anywhere anyway. I've always had a "more to love" frame that Ellen tells me would make North African women proud (be sure to check out her blog entry). Growing up heavy always made me feel somehow really invisible and conspicuous all at the same time - but more on those implications on another day.

Some of my colleagues (nerds like me) once said my Harry Potter identity may be Luna Lovegood - the girl who is a little different but lovable for being uniquely herself. I was at first a little taken aback by this comment but reading chapters about women's traditional (oppressed) communication styles makes me kind of get it.

I'm not your typical woman in my speech patterns and perhaps that's what makes me always the best friend of men rather than the one they notice as a potential mate. Perhaps I'm easier to identify as a buddy because I've lost my verbal inhibitions. And, really, I'm no longer regretting these traits. Perhaps the Lord can use a looney, unreserved girl like me in unexpected ways. Perhaps, like my friend Becky, I can encourage women to express and develop the world of their minds.

So how about it, anything you need to say?

Still Me!!

2007-04-24T21:39:00.000-05:00

Don't worry, it's still me - Stacey.

I was playing with my template and somehow went back to the hideous pink color. I just couldn't live with it, so I decided it's time for an all new look. Hope it's easy on the eyes.

Blessing my socks off (and a little miscellany)

2007-04-22T19:40:00.000-05:00

OK, so I admit it. I've been in a difficult spiritual season this year. Just struggling to get my feet rooted into midwest soil I guess. Sometimes I've seriously doubted the Lord's promises to take care of my each and every need. Well, wouldn't you know it, He answers every challenge and doubt by just pouring on of unexpected love and blessings. So, I must really give Him some props here by singing out how he has given much to this little sparrow.

I've been trying to figure out where to live in this metropolis called Chicagoland, and a few weeks ago a colleague told me of a house sitting opportunity. An interview and some yada yada yada has led to an amazing gift of living in a house for 9 months, 7 minutes from work with the opportunity to save a ton of money and time. I'll be able to really dig into finding a church and ministry where I was made to serve.

AND(!!!), I've just confirmed plans to spend two weeks this summer visiting one of my best friends in Mozambique, Africa. How spoiled can a girl get?

Well, I'll tell you how spoiled I already am and answer some tags too. I was tagged by both Pete and Becky to post pictures of my office (Becky asked for the home office), so here it is folks...My work and home offices:

I have one of the nicest offices in the building next to a fantastic boss, and then go home to my "home office" of a comfy couch and a laptop. Doesn't get better than that.

Praise God for His incredible, unfailing love in all things!

"Conservative Church Woman Bursting with Unused Talent"

2007-04-15T14:38:00.000-05:00

Lately, I've been doing a lot of thinking about my role in The Church (partly because I’m moving closer to work and looking for a new one). Now by my role, I have to think about the role of a single woman in her mid-thirties.

I have been raised in some truly wonderful conservative churches who have helped me embrace passages like: I Corin 14:34-35 and Eph 5: 22-24 that talk about women submitting to the authority of their husbands and the church. I see much beauty in the concepts of submission in a woman's life. I actually even really like the idea and embrace it in every way I can.

However, I have no husband to submit to or even discuss spiritual matters with. I have long been out of my father's house (although I try and give him all due respect and honor even in adulthood). So, whom exactly do I submit too? Obviously, it is to God alone and His church.

So, I do submit to the authority of the pastors and church but this is where it gets even more complicated. I look to the bible for guidance and find verses like 1 Timothy 2: 11-15 which say:

A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be silent. For Adam was formed first, then Eve. And Adam was not the one deceived; it was the woman who was deceived and became a sinner. But women will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith, love and holiness with propriety.

This verse is very, very troubling for a single woman such as me. I have not rebelled against God and remained single. I do not even believe He has called me to be single. I have asked, pleaded, been frustrated and finally (generally) have made peace with the fact that this is the good and right will of God for my life. I refuse to view my life as being on hold…as “not married yet” (I’m not to look towards tomorrow for anything, but to live fully in today in service to my Lord). The child rearing thing is disturbing - I may never have children (even though I would love the privilege) although some commentaries help me make peace with the statement saying: “the definite article (‘the’) which precedes childbearing in the Greek sentence denotes ‘the birth’--that is, the birth of the Christ.”

So again, in theory (biblical theory especially), I have no problem with submission – I really don’t even desire women to be pastors (honoring the authority over men clause) although I’m not sure I would fight against it (much cultural-context biblical interpretation would have to be processed first). I’m pretty conservative (read not very emergent) in my views.

However, many churches take these passages and slot women into women’s, children’s, or altar/kitchen ministries. I have been a middle school teacher and have gifts in leadership and teaching. I am a career woman – as in, I must work during the day to pay for my food and shelter - with much responsibility. Most women’s ministries primary activity is during the daytime - besides just how many women could possibly lead in the one ministry? I am not a domestic diva - not very good at crafts and cook fine but don't excel in love for it. Some churches seem to allow women to lead in the capacity of youth ministry or small groups...if they are married (in the auspice of under their husband’s authority). Needless to say, I am finding this conventional role of women in churches very difficult to maneuver. I wish to honor God with the gifts he has given me, but the outlets are few.

I know there is much more to be said on the topic (I have much more to say, but the post is getting very long already) so please everyone (men too – don’t be afraid, I won’t bite or snarl) begin to fire away.

"Finding Wholeness in Our True Identity"

2007-04-08T21:12:00.000-05:00

"In a popular self-esteem book for women, readers are warned against trying to find worth in relationships, work or motherhood. Instead, 'we need to believe that our life has some intrinsic meaning and need not be justified by anyone or anything external.' Women do need to stop looking for value solely in activities and accomplishments, but where do we find that 'intrinsic meaning'? Does simply existing, living, breathing give us value? As a Christian, the answer is a resounding yes!" - Chapter 2, Stronger Than You Think

It seems my whole life I've been struggling to find my source of meaning and purpose. That doesn't seem like an odd statement unless you consider that I've been a Christian my whole life - and I'm supposed to follow that statement with "I've found it in Jesus" (which is true I do find my only peace and source of meaning by sitting at His feet).

This isn't a struggle with insecurity, I recognize that God created me with talents and gifts that I want to use to serve Him. And that is where the problem rests for me - how do I use my gifting to serve Him in a significant way? How does my life reflect such an amazing sacrifice as Christ on the cross? How do I stand before Him and feel as though my life has been spent for Him and not myself?

My personality is such that I long to be on a quest - to be the Joan of Arcs or Mother Theresas of the world. I want to live the "purpose driven life." But no matter what I'm doing, life just seems to be the same day-to-day working to make a living, going to church, making meals, seeking community.

So, I've started to wonder if my paradigm needs a shift. Maybe there is no job, ministry, community that I can pour myself into and have a sense of "job well done." Maybe, just maybe, I need to learn how to have the day well done. To fully be present in whatever God puts before me in the day (hmmm, seems I've read that before somewhere).

I'm desperately trying to find that space where I can simply focus my eyes on Jesus and let go of my preconceived notions of my life. To be satisfied with each positive interaction with fellow human beings as part of my service to Christ.

However, I'm still plagued with the feeling that there are ways to waste life...that there is something bigger and better I could be doing.

How do you reconcile living a life worthy of Christ's calling and letting Jesus be Your final answer?

"Songs I'm Digging" Tag

2007-04-04T21:49:00.000-05:00

Recently Jennwith2ns tagged me with the challenge to list the 7 songs I most love right now. I'll gladly accept this run through the acoustical woods because, for the last six months, I've been blessed by a carpool music guru who acts as my own personal DJ. As a result of a long commute to work, my musical palate has become well educated.

Here are my favorites:

KT Tunstall "Stoppin The Love" - actually I haven't stopped listening to the whole Eye to the Telescope album since I downloaded it from Itunes a month ago. The songs on the radio are already becoming overplayed, so you just have to listen to the whole album to appreciate the mix of upbeat feel good songs and groovy blues.
Imogene Heap "Hide and Seek" - the amazing poetic lyrics and funky mixing makes your heart break all over again from your last painful goodbye.
Bebo Norman "I Will Lift My Eyes" (playing on my MySpace now!) - this is my most honest, current heart cry.
"Ca Plane Pour Moi" off of the Me, Myself, I soundtrack - one of my long time favorites (and not to be confused with Me, Myself and I). The song is a great upbeat French tune that's playing on a Coke commercial right now. It's also a wonderful celebration-of-singleness Australian film (warning: rated R for a reason).
Ditty Bops "Sister Kate" - another feel good swing tune, and who couldn't use a little levity in your day.
Caedmon's Call "Mystery Of Mercy" off of Back Home - I just love Caedmon's Call and this one is particularly poignant writing.
"Rotten Hell" by Menomena - I discovered this one (without the help of my carpool guru :) after reading a review in Relevant Magazine. They're an offbeat punk band and I like the lyrics and general tone of the song.

OK, Jenn, mission accomplished. I'm tagging anyone who thinks it would be fun to continue our musical education.

Stronger Than You Think

2007-03-26T20:16:00.000-05:00

So, warning, the following is going to be a little shameless promotion of an InterVarsity Press book - no, really, I feel no shame.

I had the most wonderful reading experience this weekend. Let me set the idyllic scene for you. It was around 78 degrees and I hopped in my car and drove to Wheaton College (wish I could say with the top down, but my Corolla and I haven't figured that one out yet). I grabbed a lawn chair and weaved my way through other - very young or am I getting old - sun frolickers to a piece of campus where I could see no one else but was adequately surrounded by green grass and collegiate brick buildings.

In my bag was a new book, Stronger Than You Think by Kim Gaines Eckert, that I've been looking forward to since I got an early preview of the back copy. Chapter 1 is called "Searching for Wholeness in Romance, Motherhood or Career: Why a Broken World Leaves Us Disappointed" And so far, I'm not disappointed with the deep level of realness in the voice of the author or the women she quotes. I'm hoping that reading this can help me think through some of my struggles with restlessness and my search for wholeness.

I'm leaving for a week long vacation tomorrow to visit baby Grace (and her mommy and daddy) and the Millsaps family (wahoo, it's baby cuddling time). Now, I'm even looking forward to the plane trip so I can read more of my book. If anyone picks up a copy and wants to discuss with me (a little virtual book club?) please let me know.

Spam of the Day Stories continue.

2007-03-18T18:59:00.000-05:00

And now for something completely different...

I've been saving up my spam subjects for a week or so because they have been truly wonderful. So here's some creative candy for us all.

"then hopped sidewise to the wall"

"dreaded Justice then be lulld to sleep"

"hubcap slingshot" (ouch! look out for that one)

"misunderstand reincarnate" (really who doesn't)

Here's how you play - pick your favorite spam and tell the story to go with it. Have fun!

What's joy got to do with it

2007-03-12T07:18:00.000-05:00

Listening to Christian radio, I often hear quick clips aimed at teenagers who don't believe in Christ as Savior, the "ads" go something like this:
Are you tired of running from one thing to the next.
Tired of looking for completeness in relationships or the next party to bring you joy.
What your heart is really longing for can only be found in Jesus Christ.
He will bring you completeness you've never known before.

After hearing this clip the other day, the next song that came on had the lyrics
I'm trading my sorrow
I'm trading my shame
I'm laying it down for the joy of the Lord

OK, so there seems to be a theme here, and I'm not sure I, as a life-long Christian, get it. When the guy is asking about running from one thing to the next to find meaning, I had to say, "yes, I relate to that!" I sang at the top of my lungs about trading my sorrow and shame for joy, but I realized that maybe...I don't.

What's wrong with me that I don't feel the joy of the Lord when I know for sure that I belong to Him? I generally feel a deep underlying sense of contentment or comfort in knowing that God is with me and taking care of me, but joy is something that is far more occasional. Don't get me wrong, I'm not really a depressed person - nothing is particularly wrong with my life. My faith is grounded in knowing that Christ is the truth - that He is the only way, and He has proven himself to me over and over again. But, I don't constantly feel joy and amazing fulfillment.

Is there something wrong with my faith or is there something wrong with the idea that the Christian life is a constantly joyful one? Is it right to guarantee happiness to those who do not yet believe? Would our biblical ancestors guarantee such things?

Thoughts anyone?

Glorying in the Unexpected "Goods"

2007-03-06T19:57:00.000-06:00

I am reading one of my all time favorite series, C.S. Lewis's Space Trilogy. In the book Perelandra, the main character, Ransom, is taken to the planet Venus where he meets the first woman created on that planet. She is mother and queen of Venus (in the same way Eve was mother to us), but has been seperated from the first man, The King.

Ransom finds himself trying to explain difficult concepts such as disappointment and longing to her, but she proves herself far more insightful and wise than we could ever imagine possible in our fallen world of cynicism and doubt.

"But even you," Ransom said, "when you first saw me, I know now you were expecting and hoping that I was the King. When you found I was not, your face changed. Was that event not unwelcome? Did you not wish it to be otherwise?"

"Oh," said the Lady..."I have been so young till this moment that all my life now seems to have been a kind of sleep...What you have made me see is plain as the sky, but I never saw it before. Yet it has happened every day. One goes into the forest to pick food and already the thought of one fruit rather than another has grown up in one's mind. Then, it may be, one finds a different fruit and not the fruit one thought of. One joy was expected and another is given.

But this I had never noticed before - that the very moment of the finding there is in the mind a kind of thrusting back, or setting aside. The picture of the fruit you have not found is still, for a moment, before you. And if you wished - if it were possible to wish - you could keep it there. You could send your soul after the good you had expected, instead of turning it to the good you had got. You could refuse the real good; you could make the real fruit taste insipid by thinking of the other...

And this is the glory and wonder you have made me see; that it is I, I myself, who turn from the good expected to the given good. Out of my own heart I do it. One can conceive a heart which did not: which clung to the good it had first thought of and turned the good which was given into no good...

It is a delight with terror in it! One's own self to be walking from one good to another, walking beside Him as Himself may walk, not even holding hands...The world is so much larger than I thought. I thought we went along paths - but it seems there are no paths. The going is the path."

"But are you happy without the King? Do you not want the King?"

"Want him?" she said. "How could there be anything I did not want?"

May we all walk from one good to the next and glory in wanting all that is given by our Savior!

Confession

2007-02-26T18:26:00.000-06:00

I have crossed over to the darkside (hanging head in shame)...I have become a MySpace junkie (don't worry the link is only to my own site - and don't forget to make me a friend :).

At first, I only joined so I could communicate with my niece. Then I discovered the ability to add music (I love music). Then I found websites where you can add cool designs, revolving pictures, map locators....... It is all so artsy and fun and I can create an environment. This is really addicting to an INFP, eneagram 4 (for all you unconfessed personality-type addicts like me).

Then this weekend, horror of horrors, I've discovered how to browse for people which means I can find former students, friends I've lost track of - the connection possibilities are endless. And perhaps best (or worst) of all is there's really no pressure to be witty or intelligent as long as the look gets better and better.

Ah there is the rub, at last. I'm afraid the whole experience is catering to a shallow, mind numbing existence that horrifies me if I stop to think for even a moment. I'm afraid our whole society is becoming what sci-fi writers have been mocking for years (Fahreinheit 451 TV walls, Matrix plugged into a false world). How will we pull away from the glowing light and form real communities?

Or, perhaps our idea of community just needs to grow, and allowing people into our authentic selves can somehow reveal the work of Christ in us. I pray that’s so.

Spam of the Day

2007-02-19T19:28:00.000-06:00

So lately, I've been taking myself far too seriously and my blog may be...well, downright depressing.

So I've decided to join my awesome coworker, Dave Zimmerman, and have some fun with spam (not just a meat by product you know).

My spam this week started quite philosophical with my friend Annabelle (of course she's my friend - that's why she's emailing right?) saying, "that I want to see the end and want to see the future." Wouldn't we all honey?!

But today, two new spams took a serious bend towards scary-stories-around-the-campfire. So tag to anyone who wants to play along with finishing this spam story starter (Besides it's some great poetry - for junk mail).

"And before they could rescue him"

"claws glint among ragged feathers"

Welcome Grace

2007-02-18T14:40:00.000-06:00

One of my best friends had a baby named Grace this week, and I'm so excited for her - we're the same age and have travelled through life's ups and downs for many years together.

When my friend called to tell me that Grace (such a beautifully symbollic chosen name) had opened her eyes to this world, the first thing I said is, "Do you have a baby?" My friend nearly cried as she said Yes. I understand the crack in her voice and it wasn't because she was exhausted. It was because her dreams of having a husband and becoming a mom have finally come true. She was looking into the face of her daughter and felt the Lord's blessing.

I have been travelling through a myriad of emotions this week from numbness to sadness to elation for others. As I reassure other single friends that God will honor their sacrifices for Him, I'm holding onto that promise for dear life. I'm processing (perhaps even mourning) my own desires to be a wife and a mother, but I will hold on tightly to the grace of my "Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor" (2 Corin 8:9) - including giving up the constant fellowship of the trinity for 33 years.

I am still searching for ways to pour out my life as a sacrifice to Him even though at times it terrifies me and I want so badly to grasp onto the physical comforts that I think will fulfill me.

Somehow, strangely, the cry of a newborn baby girl is echoing in my head today. I'm looking at the world with an infant's cloudy blue eyes relying on the sustenance of my Abba who sustains me and gives me his patience and grace.

Psalm 139

2007-02-11T16:45:00.000-06:00

O LORD, You have searched me and known me.

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
You understand my thought from afar.

You scrutinize my path and my lying down,
And are intimately acquainted with all my ways.

This past week I have been grumpy! I’ve felt out of sorts with everything and everyone around me, and worst thing of all, I don’t know why. One consistent theme of my mood has been feeling like an outsider – that no one really gets me, that people find me annoying and wish I’d go away. Mind you, no one was actually doing anything in particular to make me believe that, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Finally, on Saturday I knew I needed to spend the morning in confession and seeking the Lord’s council. I was once again led to Psalm 139 (the chapter that He always sends me to in times of loneliness and frustration).

“Please Lord search me. You know me better than I know myself. What is my problem? Why do I feel at odds with everyone?”

His answer:

If I say, "Surely the darkness will overwhelm me,

And the light around me will be night,"

Even the darkness is not dark to You,
And the night is as bright as the day

Darkness and light are alike to You.

For You formed my inward parts;

You wove me in my mother's womb.

I will give thanks to You,
for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

Wonderful are Your works,

And my soul knows it very well.

My frame was not hidden from You,

When I was made in secret,

And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;

Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;

By the time I had finished reading these verses aloud to myself, I was dissolving into a puddle of tears! After eating so many comfort foods I could choke on them and feeling so sick of the sight of my own ample frame that I wished to hide, I was being reminded that I was formed and planned exactly how I am. The thought made me weak.

“Lord, how could it be true that you Love me and made me how I am?”

And again His answer:

In Your book were all written

The days that were ordained for me,

When as yet there was not one of them.
How precious also are Your thoughts to me,

O God!How vast is the sum of them!

And finally the accusers voice was silenced if even for a moment. For, I am God’s beautiful child. His love for me is never ending and He has placed me exactly where He wants me to be.

I hope someday to mature enough to stop measuring myself against the standards of others and truly grasp how beloved I am by the only one that matters. May the Lord save us all from the endless distraction of trying to find worth in other’s eyes or the tired occupations of our own minds.

Spiritual Anorexia

2007-02-05T18:49:00.000-06:00

Yesterday morning, I'm standing facing the worship team as they sing songs about the greatness of our King. I realize that these words mean nothing to me this morning. I'm not angry. I'm not sad. I'm just numb. My brain and emotions are as frozen as the ground outside and I close my mouth because I dare not sing words of praise to my Lord that are hollow.

"Lord, what is this sluggishness in my brain? I'm excited about spending the evening watching the super bowl with my friend, but I don't know how to make my spirit move to be excited about your throne room."

Of course the Lord is patient with these moments and honored my feeble prayers by giving me amazing clarity into the problem - I was suffering from spiritual anorexia. Refusing to eat "meat," I have been feeding myself with horribly empty spiritual calories. I have spent all of my evenings for a very long time mindlessly watching sitcoms and surfing the internet. I've been nibbling on meager saltines of random bible verses occasionally in the morning, and filling any quiet space at work listening to colleagues funky secular itunes. Now, none of these things are wrong or bad in and of themselves it's just that there's been no spiritual meat. Thankfully, by the time the bread and wine of communion was passed around my brain had begun to thaw through confession and realization.

So today, I typed notes from an N.T. Wright book that reminded me that the Lord's Supper, which I feasted on yesterday, was designed as a feast for us of Christ himself. I gulped down chapters in Romans this morning and couldn't stop chewing on the fact that the Lord chose us and will not separate His love from us. I played amazing spiritual truths on my iTunes until I can actually once again feel the sweet embrace of my Lord reminding me that He is always here and always loves me.

So, now I really must stop writing as I feel a spiritual binge coming on of some C.S. Lewis reading time with rich worship playing in the background.

2007-02-03T22:14:00.000-06:00

GO BEARS!

OK, so I initially posted this statement to speak for itself (all by itself) but then I realized that I just couldn't do it. I have to admit it's fun to be in a city who so loves their sports teams. I even found myself sitting in front of the TV this last month watching the play off games by myself - that's how I've discovered I actually like watching football.

So as a tribute to all of you who love the super bowl excuse to have people over, eat bad food, and do a little cheering. I again say...GO BEARS!

Fervor or fever?

2007-01-28T19:17:00.000-06:00

James 1:27 says: "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

All month, while listening to my pastor's sermon series on James, I've been trying to figure out what looking after orphans and widows should look like in my life. I've desperately wanted to be involved with youth, but the way is shut (for now). I have never heard a specific call to far reaches of the world to be a missionary, but the possibility is there. Mostly, I do not want to live as the preveledged American doing nothing.

So lately, I've had a fervor in my heart to find that place to serve God. Only to end up frustrated because I don't know what to do. Today, sitting in church it hit me - is it fervor I'm feeling or fever? I'm so determined to find a place to serve God that I haven't even asked Him what He wants me to do. Am I wanting to serve or stay busy? Maybe I need to just wait on him without squirming and struggling and demanding...

Of course there's always the possibility that that's a lame excuse to do nothing?

Life is just life (cartwheels anyone?)

2007-01-23T22:24:00.000-06:00

I remember in college believing that life would really start after I got out. That I would be this amazing teacher with a ton of energy and creativity who would change the world for Jesus one teenager at a time. The sad thing is that I never really felt that amazing or creative and didn't change the world. I started to learn that life is just life after all, and I should learn to find contentment and joy in the little things.

Unless...maybe I was meant to do something else! So, I moved to Chicago to find out the great adventure that God really had for me - the thing I'm truly made for. After all, I'm single and available to go out and change the world right?! So, here I am and I'm finding that...well...life is just life after all. I'm not sure how I'm changing the world and there is no grand adventure in my sites.

So, after flagellating myself about my lack of missionary frenzy lately, I just happened to click over to Relevant Magazine where God took me to a fantastic article called Cartwheels on the Beach. You really must read it.

Perhaps it's time again to appreciate the life God has given me, to wait on Him with more patience...maybe I just need to learn to do cartwheels.

2007-01-21T22:37:00.000-06:00

Restless
Watching, waiting
For the hand to hold that never grasps
For the warmth of fingers that remain rigid and cold
For the flicker in irises that look beyond my shoulder
To someone or somewhere else

Waiting
For whispers of direction and affection
For a touch with heat in it
Beyond the imagined embrace

For the sense of completeness
For the feeling of a job well done
For a sense that I’ve followed the commission
That I’m doing, meaning, providing
Something that’s of worth

Waiting for the sense of guilt to go away
For the woman inside to be strong
For the lack of need
For the dream to die or be reality
For a well done good and faithful…

Nothing’s truly wrong
But nothing is horribly right
The carrot continues to dangle
The trust wavers but stands firm
That this isn’t home anyway…that I’ll understand later…that ethereal love is sufficient
Until that day
Without tears or remorse or confusion
Until that day…when I can look into the eyes of the one who knows, and loves, and understands.
Until that day – I’ll trudge steadily onward
The kernel of joy or contentment buried inside my thrumming chest.

Tag...I'm it.

2007-01-18T21:08:00.000-06:00

Margaret Feinberg said anyone reading her blog today should consider themselves tagged. Since I'm an avid Feinberg blog lurker, I thought I best answer the questions (and while I'm at it, I'll tag Jennifer Millsaps).

1. What’s the most fun work you’ve ever done, and why? (two sentences max)
Directing an outdoor camp in Montana - white water rafting in Glacier, hiking in the Rocky Mountains, singing praise songs around a campfire...need I say more.
2. Name one thing you did in the past that you no longer do but wish you did? (one sentence max).
Read novels to 30 or so captive 13 and 14 year olds.

3. Name one thing you’ve always wanted to do but keep putting it off? (one sentence max)
Elope to Venice - just not sure when I'll get around to that :)

4. What two things would you most like to learn or be better at, and why? (two sentences max)
Painting/drawing and writing fiction. I've always wanted to take classes but don't seem to take the time.

5. If you could take a class/workshop/apprentice from anyone in the world living or dead, who would it be and what would you hope to learn? (two more sentences, max)
CS Lewis or George MacDonald would be amazing to apprentice with. I'm sure they could help me write a fantastic young adult novel.

6. What three words might your best friends or family use to describe you?
Warm, witty, transparent

7. Now list two more words you wish described you.
Elegant, refined.

8. What are your top three passions? (can be current or past, work, hobbies, or causes– three sentences max)
relationships, books, guiding young people towards Christ's love for them

9. Write–and answer–one more question that YOU would ask someone (with answer in three sentences max)

How do you know what God's direction for your life is? No really, I'm asking.

Confession: man follower at heart

2007-01-15T18:39:00.000-06:00

I had a dream this weekend about watching men I know play frisby golf and basketball. Deciding I was unneeded, I left to return home - only it was my parent's home and there were little tree frogs covering the ground. My first ever boyfriend was sitting on a bench close by but not engaging with me at all when the frogs all started jumping, more accurately flowing in large waves, out of the yard.

The dream was so bizzare that I just had to look up the symbols. Frogs and basketball both have to do with goals and frisbies are supposed to be relational but I was watching someone aim at a target with one. So, it became clear very quickly. I have once again been trying to decide just exactly where (in the enormity of Chicagoland) to live - close to friends, close to church, close to work !??

I also have to confess a frustrating weakness of mine. I have always longed for men to give me attention and direction. I would love nothing more than a man to follow around - that way I would not have to continually decide what is best or right for the direction of my life. I even try to fabricate this sort of direction by having elaborate daydreams of real men I meet who will be my savior and will suddenly fall in love with me and allow me to assume their lives as my plan. Yes, we all can quickly see the enormity of errors in that thinking.

So, I'm not sure if I'm just a pitiful failure of the strong intelligent female or if my "condition" comes straight from Eve's curse that her "desire will be for her husband" but I will try yet again to refocus my vision on my Abba and strike out on the path where He alone can lead.

Correction to last post

2007-01-07T13:02:00.000-06:00

Actually I need to change my mantra: I am smack dab (living, breathing, existing) in the middle of God's plan today!

Single on a satisfying Saturday

2007-01-06T23:24:00.000-06:00

I'm reading a book called One Sweet Quarrel by Deirdre McNamer and ran across a terrifyingly resonate description of a single woman who is an artistic dreamer.

She had begun to automatically scan the left hands of young men she met...Marriage wasn't Daisy's goal - she considered herself an artist, a keeper of the sacred flame - but she would have liked an opportunity to say no. At the very least she would have liked an escort...She had a sense of missed signals - that something about beaus, and fiances, and, for that matter, men in general had been made clear to her friends and contemporaries in a way that did not include her. She could not understand the casual way they got married. It seemed to her like sitting down to dinner at a friend's, then inexplicably promising to stay there the rest of your life.

Oh, Daisy, my sister - perhaps I don't feel quite the same befuddlement about men in general - after all some of them are my very best friends (even some long term boyfriends). But, that's just it isn't it...always the best friend never the bride. So many ringless fingers in Chicagoland without ever the breathless plea to stay at the dinner table.

Oh well, back to chanting my mantra: God has a plan, God has a plan, God has a...

Still quiet whispers

2007-01-03T20:11:00.000-06:00

Urbana season is over. We've packed our boxes, reflected on the journey, and come home. And, unlike new mothers, I have spent several days sleeping.

It seems the prophet Elijah has accompanied me on this journey for several months (see my October post), and yet again the Lord has revealed himself to me in the Elijah-like fashion of I Kings 19: 11-20.

I think part of me expected to find God at Urbana in "a great and powerful wind [that] tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind."

The after effects would be a transformation of a mighty "earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire."

But the truth is that I did see God at Urbana in "a gentle whisper."
I saw Abba speak:

In the smiles of the attendees as they walked through the halls
In the amazement of the workers of the convention hall that college students could be so polite and clean and the tears they shed that working with us was like meeting family
In the talks with students in line for Starbucks and in handing off hot coffee to an unsuspecting traffic guide.
In the squeel of delight as I gave IVP water bottles to those wonderful ladies who took care of us at our hotel for two weeks.
In the talks with all of our volunteers who have yet again expanded my view of my family in heaven.

I never made it to many of the speaker's presentations because I was way to tired or busy (although I did almost dissolve in tears every time I saw the 19,000 people packed in the dome grooving to praise songs), but I am so thankful that God choose to whisper through me in simple acts of service towards my brothers and sisters.

May His name be praised troughout all Lands as a result of Urbana 06

2006-12-25T09:01:00.000-06:00

Merry Christmas!

It's a bouncing baby...

2006-12-19T21:24:00.000-06:00

It's here!! I'm here! Tonight, I crossed the bridge over the Mississippi river, and saw the spotlight pointing to the apex of the arch, and my spirit began to sing. I can already hear the sounds of all those voices lifted in praise. I can feel the very buildings vibrating with anticipation (their made of the rocks & trees that must cry out right?).

Many people preparing for Urbana have said they feel as though they're giving birth. I feel the same. Nine months of gesticulation (actually a year, but whose counting) has finally led to this final push - the birth of something so good that only God can have made it come to be.

The dome, where the 20,000 will gather, seems to have swelled from all the prayers for the Holy Spirit to come dwell here among us. And I add one more Christmas wish to the list already offered: may these city walls and streets ring with the sound of welcome to our King.

'Tis the season for Urbana

2006-12-14T22:05:00.000-06:00

God has blessed me by giving me an amazing job - the assistant manager for IVCF's Urbana Missions Conference bookstore.

The bookstore has 1200 books related to missions and I have been able to have a hand in choosing them all, organizing volunteer employees, and keeping track of so many details my head is spinning.

I am so exhausted - and so excited. In 13 more day, I will get to see 20,000 people (what does that look like anyway?) praising God and clamoring for books about furthering His Kingdom. What a great thing!!

So if you find yourself wandering the halls of the America's Center in St. Louis after December 26, stop by the IVP Center and say hi. Or visit urbana.org and pray for our next generation of disciples hearing the Great Commission in a whole new way.

A King is Born

2006-12-03T14:15:00.000-06:00

Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing;
Come, adore on bended knee
Christ, the Lord, the new-born King.

Singing this in church this morning, I looked around at the Christmas trees covered in golden ribbon and twinkling lights. I thought about the angels hearts' bursting forth in song at His birth and closed my eyes to imagine the scene. And, as often happens when I worship, I caught just the briefest glimpse of Christ's throne room. Just the briefest moment of the splendor.

What must it be like in heaven this time of year...the party decor for the birthday of The Son? How the joy and sparkle of the angels and saints must fill the cracks of the golden halls!

As I decorate my tree, I'm struck by the fact that the most precious beauty of our Christmas finery is but a dark shadow in comparison to the splendor of our Lord.

And yet. Yet, he came to this earth in a barn with only the splendor of the stars to adorn him.

And I think about what I, like the wisemen, could bring to brighten the moment. At last I realize that I only have my bended knees and raised hands. But, oh for the day when I can bring some small treasure to decorate the throne room for His birthday.

What beauty then will I glory to bring? What beautiful adornment will you wish to give?

Paint me into perspective

2006-11-17T21:57:00.000-06:00

There is a movie I like to watch once a year about a successful career woman who has found her life becoming successfully empty. Things change drastically one day when she gets hit by a car driven by...well...herself (it's a foreign film you see). The "her" that hits her is the version that didn't let the "right one" get away. The "her" who had the house, the kids, the...other problems. They trade places. At the end of the movie the woman goes back to her life in the great apartment she had apparently never settled into. She puts a new coat of paint on the walls, starts cooking instead of eating cereal, and starts appreciating the life she has.

So, I admit it. Lately, I've felt like that woman in several ways. I've been struggling to appreciate a new lifestyle that was supposed to be a great adventure. I've been wishing for the man who would fill my days with wonder...(?)...ok, maybe just fill some of the empty space. And last weekend, I decided it was time to pull myself out of the funk and move my one bedroom out of the early dorm period style its in.

So, I painted! Yes, this desk is my first step to being that amazing, creative single woman I know is inside. OK, so the painting process did not instantly inspire satisfaction and my domain did not become transformed. But perhaps the symbolic step (and some incredibly great prayer time inspired by my church's week of prayer) is helping my psyche to relax a little. To lean back into the arms of my Father and let Him show me some joy in the minute by minute journey.

Death by detail - New life by design

2006-11-09T20:49:00.000-06:00

Sometimes, lately, I've felt buried in mountains of details. I feel as though I'm in a little bubble in the mouth of a volcano and the air is too thick to breath. There is no voice left to speak or even thoughts to reflect upon (each thought is chased away by the next item on the "to do" list anyway).

Of course, the weight is too much because I'm trying to carry a burden that is not mine.

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom. Isaiah 40:28

Praise God that He designed us to need Him --
That He allows us to be part of His greater plans.

May I remember that my hands and my days were formed by the very Creator of all things.

Onion Transformed

2006-10-27T22:56:00.000-05:00

Alone in the garden
I, Eve, sit.

Holding a shriveled, stinking fruit
Under the Tree of Hope
Without much shade
Waiting for Adam to look my way.

He never does.

The air here is stifling and dry.
The sun overwhelms my burning eyes.
And I’m left with bitter juice from the foul fruit
To wet my tongue.
I’ve been here for quite some time.

“Today,” I think, “may be different.
Perhaps Adam will come my way.
Or maybe I’ll find some shade.”

Today is different

I feel a shadow come over me.
It is my Maker
Come to sit by my side.
His eyes are kind and voice is gentle
I see the scars on his wrists.

He says to me, “Child, what ails you?”
And I fall weeping into His arms.
He knows my pain without answer
And says, “What is that you hold?”

I look down at the shriveled fruit
The bitter food I’ve eaten for days without end.
He says, “Why don’t you place that here?”
And stretches out His love torn hand.

I give Him the black remnants of the fruit’s core
And feel my fingers ache from their clutching
I stare at the claw like fingers of my ill-used hands.

When I look up, I witness an inspiring vision
The fruit begins to glow, turning back to a golden hue
It somehow looks refreshed again

In wonder, I reach for my hope fruit
But a look from My Lord stops my touch.
He says to me, “Why don’t I keep this?”
The light dims and He hides it away in His robes.

Part of me longs for my burden
And I look to where Adam plays.
The Lord turns my face back
And says, “My child, I have a plan.”

We talk for a while in that garden.
Where the grass and the trees are serene.
And He tells me how much He loves me
But I foolishly ask, “what about him?”

My Lord turns His gaze towards Adam
And He says, “I’ll take care of him.
For now, dear, we must commence walking
Away from this place of your pain.”

We stop and I look behind me
To where I last saw Adam stand.
My Savior holds me close
And takes a step forward
Leading me in another way.

Hope Onion

2006-10-22T18:10:00.000-05:00

On a beautiful day
Amongst the sounds of
Birds and rustling leaves,
I, Eve, took down the
Golden Apple of Hope

I held it in my hand
And saw that it looked good.
But I was afraid to take a bite
So I carried it away.

I showed it to Adam.

Slowly, over time, he took it from
My hand.
And then the day came
When he took the apple out.

He took a deep and hearty bite
And kissed me with the juices still
On his lips.
And it was sweet
And I dared to drink in the nectar
On his breath.

Adam gave me the Golden Apple of hope to carry.

And time went by.

And with the time,
I noticed the skin of the apple
Becoming papery & thin.

And Adam said to me,
“I’m just not sure.”
And the aroma of the fruit
Was not so sweet.

Then Adam said,
“I want no more…It doesn’t appeal.”
And then he walked away.

And I was left holding the fruit
That was somehow transformed.

Where Adam had taken a bite,
I could see layers.
I peeled at the skin and thought,
“Maybe Adam is tired & soon
Will change his mind.”

When I saw him again, he said,
“I just can’t be here right now…
it doesn’t appeal.”
My tongue grew parched
And I thirsted for the sweetness of the fruit.

So I peeled a layer
And chewed.
It was juicy but
Bitter and sharp.
The juice brought tears
That flooded my eyes

But still I held on
And Adam said,
“The timing is just not right.”
And again my throat grew dry.
And I chewed another layer
Even though the taste
Made my face
Collapse in anguish and tears.

Then Adam said,
“I really want to be friends.”
And I ate another layer.
The fruit was getting smaller.
But not quite
To the end.

And Adam seldom
Sought my face.
And seemed content
To tend his plants

I wanted desperately
To throw away the spoiled fruit.

But I am left to peel away
Each layer
Until its bitter end.

As my stomach sours
And the days grow long.
I sit and wait for the
Tears to stop flowing

And wish that the sounds
Of the garden
Will one day
Grow sweet
Again.

Buyer's Remorse

2006-10-19T21:51:00.000-05:00

Do you know those moments in a new relationship (especially the one's with the opposite sex) when you wonder, "What was I thinking? This person is so annoying. How do I get away from him?" Then the next time you see them, you think, "I really love him, but he probably doesn't care about me at all. I just know he's going to dump me."

Or, perhaps it's even simpler. You just bought the coolest ____ (fill in the blank) even though you really couldn't afford it, and then you see an even better brand and you just missed the best sale ever. So, feeling guilty and stupid, you think endlessly about taking it back.

Well, it's been just over a year since I moved to the Chicago area. And, recently, I joined a great church. And, yes I confess; I'm having buyer's remorse. Don't get me wrong. It really is a great church. But, sometimes I get so tired of having to put myself out there, and put up with the small talk. It doesn't feel like family, and it's supposed to. I'm tired of having to walk into church alone and wonder if anyone even notices I'm there. Part of me wants to run off and find a new church where I'll be really loved and appreciated.

But then I have to stop these foolish thoughts. The problem isn't the church. It's my attitude.

I'm not a casual shopper - a consumer of everyone's love for me - and I can't just go in for a refund. I know I need to invest myself and serve the body of Christ. And, just like in any new relationship, I'm going to love them if I spend some more time and serve, giving myself away to those sitting in the "pews" beside me.

Lord Jesus, may my remorse turn into a soft servant heart for Your bride - my local church.

Think on these things.

2006-10-16T22:04:00.000-05:00

Just as a sweet aroma of truth and a reminder to myself:

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." Philipians 4:8

Big Enough

2006-10-11T23:24:00.000-05:00

I woke up this morning at 5:30 A.M. Now, being blessed with a flex work schedule, I do not believe in being awake before 7:00.

The moment I opened my eyes I started creating my to do list in my head. Even though I pulled the covers up to my chin and squeezed my eyelids tightly closed, my brain just wasn't having it.

I started praying (much better use of my time) and felt compelled to open my Bible to I Kings 18-19. I love the story of Elijah defeating the Prophets of Baal. Especially where Elijah wins this great victory for God (proving to everyone that Baal is no god at all) when Yahweh shows up in a ball of fire that immediately ignites wood that has been drenched in gallons of water.

And what does Elijah do after his great display of victory? He runs away from Jezebel's death threat saying:

"I have had enough, LORD...Take my life." Then he lay down under the tree and fell asleep.
All at once an angel touched him and said, "Get up and eat." He looked around, and there by his head was a cake of bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again.

Now, this guy is the ultimate example of melancholic, wavering trust! And yet God still comforts him and proves himself amazingly gentle and awesomely strong. And Elijah sleeps...

So, at 6:00 in the morning, I whispered, "So your saying, Lord, that you're big enough to handle my to do list today?"

And I promptly rolled over and fell back to sleep!

Alone?

2006-10-08T20:15:00.000-05:00

“You really are all alone in this world.”
This is the phrase that has taunted me most of my life.

Every Sunday morning that I walk into a church alone…I hear it whispered in my ear.
Every time my family half way across the US gets together to celebrate a birthday that I’m not there for…I feel it.
Each time another friend meets someone, falls in love, and gets married…my heart beats out the phrases rhythm.
On the nights when lightening is striking next door and tornado sirens are blasting in my head, and I have no one’s arms to hide inside…I know it.

I used to be convinced that this feeling was because I’m single, but I know to much of life to believe it anymore…I know too many married people who feel as alone as I do.
My mother went to church alone for 30 years, even though my dad sleeps next to her each night.
Even those who most recently fell in love and have gotten married often express to me how restless and misunderstood they feel.

So, I must identify this loneliness for what it is…a pitiful lie from Satan.

I can only continue to follow my Savior to the far reaches of the world
And know above all things…
That HIS GRACE IS ENOUGH

And that the arms of my Creator are the only ones really big enough to hide in anyway.

Blog Cramp

2006-10-04T21:55:00.000-05:00

I’ve been trying to write a blog entry for a week now. Actually, it’s an entry I’ve been thinking about since I began, but each time I get started my fingers start to stumble over the keys, a fog settles over my brain, I’m suddenly exhausted and need to lie down, and there are a million chores that must be attended to.

On top of that, I start thinking, “Just who do I think would want to read this dribble…? I have no desire to be just another wimpy whiner dissatisfied with the world.”

You see, that’s what I keep setting out to write about – the title of the entry is “the grass is always greener.” But, it just won’t be written.

Is this divine intervention, or evil manipulation? What do you do when the words and inspiration just won’t show up on the screen?

The "Big Easy"

2006-09-26T22:02:00.000-05:00

I just got back from a weekend trip to New Orleans. And let me say, “Thank You Lord for frequent flyer miles,
the freedom to run away for the weekend any time the schedule fits,
and a creator who gives us soul refreshing diversity in people, scenery, and culture."

My stress melted away with the spicy “Nawlins” cuisine and sultry southern storms. Most of all, I gained a little perspective from my friend who moved to New Orleans for a lifestyle change and was turned in circles by a dame called Katrina.

If you want to gain new perspective of New Orleans and what the Monday night football announcers should have told you, check out this awesome editorial by New Orleans local Chris Rose: Say what's so, Joe

Sunday Perspective

2006-09-17T17:13:00.000-05:00

My world has become too small.

It’s confines:
the tiny cracks in my skull,
the walls of a pulsing muscle that pushes stale blood
Immediacy and selfishness consume me
Approval from him or them needed
Desperately

Burning tears of frustration falling
Mumbled prayers of rescue the only sound

No release.

Until the shadow of blood stained wood falls over me
A reviving drop of blood falls onto parched lips

And for a moment I can see other
I can see broader
To a hand that reached out and touched the leper
To eyes of the Father who knit me in the womb

The cosmos opens up before my Creator
And my place on this small dot in this second of time.
Becomes clear.

Perspective is restored…for the moment.

TGIF?

2006-09-15T21:29:00.000-05:00

Somewhere deeply planted in my psyche is the thought that Fridays are supposed to be filled with friends and frenzied excitement. In reality, I’m usually too tired from the week to process any more noise than the whisper of some good music. These opposing wishes often leave me steeped in a malaise of restlessness. I find myself dreading the rest of the weekend, wondering how I’ll possibly fill the endless, unplanned hours ahead of me.

But tonight, I am celebrating the ability to lay down unfulfilling expectations. I'm raising my glass in a toast to a demand free evening, to candles and Caedman’s Call on my stereo, to the great book in my hand, and to the blessed solitary of my apartment.

Generational Angst.

2006-09-11T19:59:00.000-05:00

I was recently made aware that I truly am a product of Generation X – that spoiled, angst filled generation of the 80s and 90s who are populating this earth as young adults and striving to make a difference - most of the time feeling powerless and defeated.

It is only a few inspired Gen-ers who actually go out there and change the world. On those occasions when I stumble across one of these brave souls, I am in absolute awe. They are living in Africa befriending Muslims or teaching the poor. They are running non-profit organizations that teach people to be creation friendly by traveling to parts of the world that are most negatively affected by consumerism. They are taking Bibles into China, heedless of danger. These people have a kind of energy and stamina that I seem to lack – that I find alternately exhausting and inspiring as I stand in their presence.

I often wonder why I sit in my comfortable suburban apartments waiting for a sense of calling when I have nothing holding me back. Not to say that my life has no higher purpose. Not to say that I’m not attempting to make a difference for the kingdom in my own ways. Just to say that it doesn’t feel like much…just another day of the mundane – wondering what it all means.

Now the sad truth, is that when I talk candidly with my closest world-changing friends, they too get dizzy in the day to day routine. Feeling that the fruits of their labor are too ethereal to taste. That life is just life after all…

How do we rise above to a sense of joy that Christ promises? Where do we reach that level of giving it all away? Picking up the cross and truly following Him with all that we are. How does a person expend enough of themselves to lose the restless crazy brooding that leads in endless circles?

I only find solace in long deliberate times of prayer that I too rarely “resort” too. I long for that promised day when I can stand in the presence of Christ and see my life as it was, not as I wish it to be.

The Beginning

2006-09-10T22:09:00.000-05:00

I had a dream last night that I was sitting in an auditorium crying as I watched others teaching classes. Last week, I dreamed I found a baby who I decided to keep and name "Melody." Knowing about symbolism, I realized these dreams are reflecting feelings of suppressed creativity that need expression. So, I am finally giving in and joining the world of blogging.

I intend my posts to be an honest and raw reflection of my views of being an "unmarried Christian woman." I'm afraid they may be tinged with large amounts of melancholy and frustration that is juxtaposed with glimmers of hope and clarity that only comes when I've spent some honest time with Jesus.

I hope the journey will somehow bring order to my chaotic soul and perhaps moments of identity (of knowing we're not alone in the world) if perhaps anyone is ever inclined to read these musings.