So, we bought the old house hoping hoping to be able to restore it. We love the old. We wanted the old. The analogy of our life was so evident too: it needs a new foundation, but there's a lot of salvageable wood, and we can just lift it up and restore the foundation, right? And then restore on top of that.
But as we often find when we honestly open up to self-examination, it was over our heads. The cost of trying to keep everything together and slip a foundation underneath was just too high. So with the insight and advice of several trustworthy counselors, we instead decided to rebuild completely. We went back and forth on this point for over a month, running different numbers, counting different costs, till we finally came to this conclusion.
A few days ago Roy pointed out to me, "ya know, I get it now. The Lord knew this all along (of course) and he even showed me! Remember Haggai, which the Lord used to confirm to me what He was doing with us here while we were in escrow? It says "rebuild" and I was thinking, "Yeah, whatever Lord, you mean 'restore' and 'remodel'. I think I'll listen more carefully next time and let that weigh in heavier at the beginning!" (I love the way our Daddy so gently leads and trains us to hear Him!)
We still wanted to salvage as much as we could, (and save money) (of course), so we did the demolition ourselves, board by board. This was an awesome and beautiful experience, a time travel of sorts. And it was incredible lessons. There is a lot of precious and valuable wood that we were able to save, which we hope to incorporate into our new house. But there was a hell of a lot more rotted, twisted and cracked then we first perceived. There was so much to be discarded! (There's another God story about that… about the people God brings alongside you completely miraculously to help you in this difficult task…)
So we realized, the analogy of our life just got deeper. It's not just a prop-up-fix-the-foundation. It's a board by board evaluation of every stud in our life (except for Roy…I try not to overanalyze him… he might be "a bit of a fixer-upper" but so am I…). And as we examine, we can keep what's good and discard what's not.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
pacifiers (another Musing from Mark)
Mark 15:15
So to pacify the crowd…
~
How low would I stoop to pacify the crowd? If my nature is in any way normal human nature (and I believe, unfortunately, that I'm pretty average) then I get to see exactly how low I would stoop. If put to the test, I would stoop so low as to torture and kill the King of the Universe, Love itself. I would violate my own conscience, attempt to "wash my hands" of the matter and claim I felt coerced. I would try to absolve myself of responsibility, while using my actual authority and influence to protect myself from my biggest fear: other people's anger. I would justify silencing the truth I know by bowing before "Keeping The Peace" and "Preventing A Riot." I would play Hot-Potato and other political games to try to keep myself from being burned or losing my power.
Thank you, Pilate. I'm driven to my knees again.
So to pacify the crowd…
~
How low would I stoop to pacify the crowd? If my nature is in any way normal human nature (and I believe, unfortunately, that I'm pretty average) then I get to see exactly how low I would stoop. If put to the test, I would stoop so low as to torture and kill the King of the Universe, Love itself. I would violate my own conscience, attempt to "wash my hands" of the matter and claim I felt coerced. I would try to absolve myself of responsibility, while using my actual authority and influence to protect myself from my biggest fear: other people's anger. I would justify silencing the truth I know by bowing before "Keeping The Peace" and "Preventing A Riot." I would play Hot-Potato and other political games to try to keep myself from being burned or losing my power.
Thank you, Pilate. I'm driven to my knees again.
Musings from Mark
Mark 12:28-34
One of the teachers of religious law was standing there listening to the discussion. He realized Jesus had answered well, so he asked, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"
Jesus replied, "The most important commandment is this: 'Hear O Israel! The Lord our God is the one and only Lord. And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind and all your strength.' The second is equally important: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' No other commandment is greater than these."
The teacher of religious law replied, "Well said, Teacher. You have spoken the truth by saying that there is only one God and no other. And I know it is important to love him with all my heart and all my understanding and all my strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. This is more important than to offer all of the burnt offerings and sacrifices required in the law."
Realizing this man's understanding, Jesus said to him, "You are not far from the Kingdom of God." And no one dared question him after that.
~
What an interesting encounter. A teacher of religious law who for once was hanging around listening with interest, not simply trying to trap Jesus. Can't help but wonder if it was Nicodemus or Joseph… And its an interesting question, really; the best question that could come from a teacher of religious law, probably. Or course, to someone whose life is defined by laws, it would be good to know which is the most important.
Jesus' answer is interesting, too. When people questioned with impure motives, he usually answered with a question which would expose that. But here, he shows such grace in engaging with one right at their own level, in their own world. (His answer, of course, is the one law that points away from us and what we do for God and points back to the heart of being in relationship with God and people.) He points back to loving God, which we know is a reciprocal, derivative re-turning what we've first received from Him.
So Jesus says, "you want the most important commandment? Ok, I'll give you the most important commandment. With no games, no embarrassing you; I'll just tell you." Then what I find so interesting in this is what is NOT said; how it falls flat; I feel a loaded silence after this whole exchange. This teacher of religious law, this man who was informed and defined by what he did for God, wasn't ready to let go. He cared to know which was the most important commandment, but he didn't dare ask if there was anything more important than the commandments.
When he receives Jesus' answer with agreement, it is so….nice…and polite…and obvious that while he's close, yet he's still so far away. Instead of falling on his face, or embracing Jesus, or pouring out his expensive perfume, or kissing his feet, or any of the natural responses that we see when the reality of this theory is pressed into someone's heart, - instead we see a sterile and calculated response that is yet …so close! Just one teeny, tiny, quantum leap, brother scribe!
I see that the idea of this one God is important to you, and pleasing Him is terribly* important to you, and I see that you must have no inkling that you are, in fact, conversing with HIM. And it makes me wonder, if you're so close, what IS it that's keeping you blinded to the reality of Emmanuel, God-with-us? Could it be that, while you understand that the great commandment is more important than all the offerings and sacrifices, yet your infatuation with commands is keeping you blind? Your knowledge is there (- that it's most important to love God-) but its like you've forgotten to actually just do it. You're not far from the Kingdom; you're standing in the doorway, but facing out; not wanting to turn around from what you're doing for God, and just enter in!
*By "terribly"I mean "terribly".
One of the teachers of religious law was standing there listening to the discussion. He realized Jesus had answered well, so he asked, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"
Jesus replied, "The most important commandment is this: 'Hear O Israel! The Lord our God is the one and only Lord. And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind and all your strength.' The second is equally important: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' No other commandment is greater than these."
The teacher of religious law replied, "Well said, Teacher. You have spoken the truth by saying that there is only one God and no other. And I know it is important to love him with all my heart and all my understanding and all my strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. This is more important than to offer all of the burnt offerings and sacrifices required in the law."
Realizing this man's understanding, Jesus said to him, "You are not far from the Kingdom of God." And no one dared question him after that.
~
What an interesting encounter. A teacher of religious law who for once was hanging around listening with interest, not simply trying to trap Jesus. Can't help but wonder if it was Nicodemus or Joseph… And its an interesting question, really; the best question that could come from a teacher of religious law, probably. Or course, to someone whose life is defined by laws, it would be good to know which is the most important.
Jesus' answer is interesting, too. When people questioned with impure motives, he usually answered with a question which would expose that. But here, he shows such grace in engaging with one right at their own level, in their own world. (His answer, of course, is the one law that points away from us and what we do for God and points back to the heart of being in relationship with God and people.) He points back to loving God, which we know is a reciprocal, derivative re-turning what we've first received from Him.
So Jesus says, "you want the most important commandment? Ok, I'll give you the most important commandment. With no games, no embarrassing you; I'll just tell you." Then what I find so interesting in this is what is NOT said; how it falls flat; I feel a loaded silence after this whole exchange. This teacher of religious law, this man who was informed and defined by what he did for God, wasn't ready to let go. He cared to know which was the most important commandment, but he didn't dare ask if there was anything more important than the commandments.
When he receives Jesus' answer with agreement, it is so….nice…and polite…and obvious that while he's close, yet he's still so far away. Instead of falling on his face, or embracing Jesus, or pouring out his expensive perfume, or kissing his feet, or any of the natural responses that we see when the reality of this theory is pressed into someone's heart, - instead we see a sterile and calculated response that is yet …so close! Just one teeny, tiny, quantum leap, brother scribe!
I see that the idea of this one God is important to you, and pleasing Him is terribly* important to you, and I see that you must have no inkling that you are, in fact, conversing with HIM. And it makes me wonder, if you're so close, what IS it that's keeping you blinded to the reality of Emmanuel, God-with-us? Could it be that, while you understand that the great commandment is more important than all the offerings and sacrifices, yet your infatuation with commands is keeping you blind? Your knowledge is there (- that it's most important to love God-) but its like you've forgotten to actually just do it. You're not far from the Kingdom; you're standing in the doorway, but facing out; not wanting to turn around from what you're doing for God, and just enter in!
*By "terribly"I mean "terribly".
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
the ring on my mat
For years friends have asked why I take off my wedding ring when practicing yoga and I've always responded with short and/or ambiguous answers. Here's the rest of the story.
I first started taking off all jewelry when practicing even before I was married, just to be more comfortable and less distracted. But once I was married, this small and simple choice started to carry more impact. I think the more that I got asked about it the more my purpose solidified, even if I couldn't articulate it. Now that I've taken some time to be back with just me on my mat, (outside of studios and thus questions) I feel like I can articulate why this is important to me.
My wedding ring symbolizes the most important human relationship in my life. It symbolizes a covenant I made with God and with Roy and it symbolizes my commitment to both of them. I have heard it said that the circle of a ring signifies eternity with no beginning and no end, but for me that is not what this band reminds me of. I believe that our marriage is a beautiful, awesome gift to be enjoyed on this earth, with divine purpose, but certainly not something we will take with us when we leave this life. (Not to mention, a plain circle is not the mathematical symbol for infinity.) If there's one thing that this circle reminds me of, it is the cycles of life and relationship. (Such as the cycle of honest and gracious communication, where defenses melt lower and lower, or the cycle of painful and accusatory communication, where the walls are built faster than the new Wal-mart.)
The amazing power of choice seems to be one of the recurring themes that my ring reminds me of, and yet it isn't all that. Choice is an amazing gift - a divine gift - and it is in the freedom of choice that I can find what love and surrender and submit mean. But also when I look at my ring, sitting innocently at the end of my mat, I'm reminded of how God is completely sovereign, in Roy's and my life especially. (Haha- only a youngest child would feel that God is "especially" _____ just for her!)
Taking off my ring reminds me that I am not my marriage. My worth, my value, and my identity, are not given to me from my marriage. I have those things straight from the source, and I can offer them to my husband, my children, my community. My mat is a safe place where I can physically and emotionally and spiritually just be. I think this kind of safe place is what Jesus was talking about when he mentioned being in your closet: somewhere where you're willing to take everything else off and get real with God. For a few time-stopping moments I don't have to be anything for anybody, even myself or God. I get to just be. I can experience grace washing over me, and love filling me.
And somehow once I've poured myself out and I pick up my mat, when I slide my ring back on my finger it is so intentional; it is so meaningful; it is so not my identity, but such a precious gift.
Friday, February 7, 2014
State of being, verbs and such
As a homeschooling mom of 3 youngsters, who loves Emily Dickinson's poetry, and holds a dual belief in the absolute possibility of complete emotional and spiritual and physical healing and wholeness side by side with an understanding that the 2nd law of thermodynamics is a proven way this world as we know it operates, I have something to say. If none of that made sense, don't worry; it doesn't to me either. Which is why I have Aristocats on and fled to my keyboard.
We've memorized the state of being verbs recently. And by "we" I mean that Janie is the only one who continues to waltz around the house chanting "Am. Is. Are Was Were. Be. Being. Been." As we were learning to differentiate from when a verb is used simply to state existence as opposed to helping another verb, I did a lot of explaining about the worth of existence. I AM. It's a complete sentence. (Yes, we talked about God telling someone that one time…) YOU ARE. That's another complete sentence. If we go on to say, for example, "You are yelling" or "You are beautiful" or we say "You are pelting me with raisins right now" then we are using that verb "are" to help say something else. But when we need to just explain that something is we just use the state-of-being verb by itself. And that's a complete sentence. And kids, it's a complete sentence because it expresses a complete thought. And the complete thought that it expresses is YOU. It's not what you're doing (although you can do awesome things), it's not what you look like (although you happen to be gorgeous), it's not what you have ('though you have a lot), that gives you worth. You have infinite value because you exist.
As I've been reiterating this to my children in the last few months, I've been listening too. A few months ago I became aware of some root chakra blockages I had, and have been learning to listen and surrender to God more and more in this area - this very inner, primal, most basic part of myself. And I have seen lies that I have believed. That I can let go of. That I can turn away from, and turn back to my Creator, Redeemer and Lover to be healed and made whole. And during this refining process there's sadness that comes from seeing things that have held me; and there's other pain of dead parts, parts that died long ago, that are still connected to living parts and need to be healed. I get the Buddhist attraction: get rid of attachments and get rid of the pain that they inevitably cause. And yet whenever I pose this question to myself, I realize I'd still choose to risk attachments with subsequent pain over no attachments, because there is something in me that says life and eternity are about a connection with something other than myself, and that to experience this I need to be open on all levels. So I believe in healing and wholeness, and I believe that pain and injustice are the inevitable companions of love and grace. And while holding those two beliefs in my head and heart and seeing that they don't reconcile, I must come back to trust that in God's hands and His eternity, it does. He is the difference, because He is.
CXLI
The healed Heart shows its shallow scar
With confidential moan,
Not mended by Mortality
Are fabrics truly torn.
To go its convalescent way
So shameless is to see,
More genuine were Perfidy
Than such Fidelity.
~Emily Dickinson~
This poem burned itself in my memory many years ago, and I remember wondering at the time if I just had a resistance to healing because I wanted to wallow in self-pity for an indefinite time, such as the rest of my life. And thinking, God no; no, I don't want that. But neither do I want some shallow band-aid or addiction that causes me to run from myself for the rest of my life.
During this time that I was off-and-on suicidal and very depressed was the first time that I came to some conclusions about the worth of existence. I realized that I had allowed myself to not simply place my love on someone, but myself, my identity and worth and dreams and purpose in life were attached to that person, and when they were ripped away from me I didn't know who I was. And then I saw that I wasn't any of those things. If I were to go on living, I had to know who I was. I was pretty sure the me that I knew existed in my body was not any of the things I had previously associated with me. I played out a lot of scenarios in my mind: if I lost all physical abilities (let's say whole body burns where even my face was melted and I didn't have most of my physical senses, or became quadriplegic and couldn't run or play violin) - who would I be? Then I'd flip it around, if I lost my mind and ability to reason and think, who would I be? And at that time, I came to a pretty basic understanding of me. I am. That is all and that is where my worth resides; I can't add to it or take it away. And since I didn't create me, I chose to surrender to the one who did- to leave my life very literally in His hands. That's when I decided to leave alone my ideas of ending my life and just see where the ride would take me, because it couldn't get worse and I knew theoretically this was just a season, a chapter. I remember feeling that I had been initiated into life. I now knew what the cliches meant; "broken heart", "dead man walking", "life sucked out of her"... And in putting one foot in front of the other I started spending 1 day per week with one of my nieces or nephew. They quickly taught me that attachments to people are absolutely worth the risk - it's called living life in color, and allowing the dark colors to be right there next to the bright. It's about the beauty of being out of control, of allowing highs and lows, riding the waves and sometimes going below them. It's about loving others, not becoming others.
Life continues unfolding in ways beautiful and mysterious. And I am so grateful for the overwhelming grace of God and his sovereign hand over every detail of my existence. As that Emily Dickinson poem resurfaced in my mind I was pondering about my healing and about places that still aren't healed. Maybe some things don't get healed- they just have to be released. Like a gangrenous foot, you just have to let it go and then heal the place where it used to be. Yet I believe and have experienced a supernatural God who heals the unhealable, but when and where and what and how is not mine to determine. Following Jesus and allowing Him into those places is what I have determined, and while its sure not comfortable it does feel real.
No, this didn't tie together nicely; and there's not really a point. <sigh…> Got that off my chest.
We've memorized the state of being verbs recently. And by "we" I mean that Janie is the only one who continues to waltz around the house chanting "Am. Is. Are Was Were. Be. Being. Been." As we were learning to differentiate from when a verb is used simply to state existence as opposed to helping another verb, I did a lot of explaining about the worth of existence. I AM. It's a complete sentence. (Yes, we talked about God telling someone that one time…) YOU ARE. That's another complete sentence. If we go on to say, for example, "You are yelling" or "You are beautiful" or we say "You are pelting me with raisins right now" then we are using that verb "are" to help say something else. But when we need to just explain that something is we just use the state-of-being verb by itself. And that's a complete sentence. And kids, it's a complete sentence because it expresses a complete thought. And the complete thought that it expresses is YOU. It's not what you're doing (although you can do awesome things), it's not what you look like (although you happen to be gorgeous), it's not what you have ('though you have a lot), that gives you worth. You have infinite value because you exist.
As I've been reiterating this to my children in the last few months, I've been listening too. A few months ago I became aware of some root chakra blockages I had, and have been learning to listen and surrender to God more and more in this area - this very inner, primal, most basic part of myself. And I have seen lies that I have believed. That I can let go of. That I can turn away from, and turn back to my Creator, Redeemer and Lover to be healed and made whole. And during this refining process there's sadness that comes from seeing things that have held me; and there's other pain of dead parts, parts that died long ago, that are still connected to living parts and need to be healed. I get the Buddhist attraction: get rid of attachments and get rid of the pain that they inevitably cause. And yet whenever I pose this question to myself, I realize I'd still choose to risk attachments with subsequent pain over no attachments, because there is something in me that says life and eternity are about a connection with something other than myself, and that to experience this I need to be open on all levels. So I believe in healing and wholeness, and I believe that pain and injustice are the inevitable companions of love and grace. And while holding those two beliefs in my head and heart and seeing that they don't reconcile, I must come back to trust that in God's hands and His eternity, it does. He is the difference, because He is.
CXLI
The healed Heart shows its shallow scar
With confidential moan,
Not mended by Mortality
Are fabrics truly torn.
To go its convalescent way
So shameless is to see,
More genuine were Perfidy
Than such Fidelity.
~Emily Dickinson~
This poem burned itself in my memory many years ago, and I remember wondering at the time if I just had a resistance to healing because I wanted to wallow in self-pity for an indefinite time, such as the rest of my life. And thinking, God no; no, I don't want that. But neither do I want some shallow band-aid or addiction that causes me to run from myself for the rest of my life.
During this time that I was off-and-on suicidal and very depressed was the first time that I came to some conclusions about the worth of existence. I realized that I had allowed myself to not simply place my love on someone, but myself, my identity and worth and dreams and purpose in life were attached to that person, and when they were ripped away from me I didn't know who I was. And then I saw that I wasn't any of those things. If I were to go on living, I had to know who I was. I was pretty sure the me that I knew existed in my body was not any of the things I had previously associated with me. I played out a lot of scenarios in my mind: if I lost all physical abilities (let's say whole body burns where even my face was melted and I didn't have most of my physical senses, or became quadriplegic and couldn't run or play violin) - who would I be? Then I'd flip it around, if I lost my mind and ability to reason and think, who would I be? And at that time, I came to a pretty basic understanding of me. I am. That is all and that is where my worth resides; I can't add to it or take it away. And since I didn't create me, I chose to surrender to the one who did- to leave my life very literally in His hands. That's when I decided to leave alone my ideas of ending my life and just see where the ride would take me, because it couldn't get worse and I knew theoretically this was just a season, a chapter. I remember feeling that I had been initiated into life. I now knew what the cliches meant; "broken heart", "dead man walking", "life sucked out of her"... And in putting one foot in front of the other I started spending 1 day per week with one of my nieces or nephew. They quickly taught me that attachments to people are absolutely worth the risk - it's called living life in color, and allowing the dark colors to be right there next to the bright. It's about the beauty of being out of control, of allowing highs and lows, riding the waves and sometimes going below them. It's about loving others, not becoming others.
Life continues unfolding in ways beautiful and mysterious. And I am so grateful for the overwhelming grace of God and his sovereign hand over every detail of my existence. As that Emily Dickinson poem resurfaced in my mind I was pondering about my healing and about places that still aren't healed. Maybe some things don't get healed- they just have to be released. Like a gangrenous foot, you just have to let it go and then heal the place where it used to be. Yet I believe and have experienced a supernatural God who heals the unhealable, but when and where and what and how is not mine to determine. Following Jesus and allowing Him into those places is what I have determined, and while its sure not comfortable it does feel real.
No, this didn't tie together nicely; and there's not really a point. <sigh…> Got that off my chest.
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