slow and marching letters

How is it that it's always new?

Is it always speaking?

Alive?

Am I so forgetful?

              unobservant?

              small & finite?

Is it new?

Am I new and so

I hear it different?

Does his tone change upon my next opening?

Did he grow the words while I slept?

This book, this book

the word

a word

Christ, the word

Messiah, Emmanuel

God with us, word with us,

among us, piercing us, dividing us,

healing us, washing us.

O, sword, Spirit's sword,

O, water

O, bread

           O, Christ.

Now I sit, I stop, I open, I pray, I train my eyes and ears to run back and forth across these thin & stoic pages. I force myself to sit & wait. For anything?

For nothing?

Hello?

Sit & wait impatient, unbelieving (but I've seen it before)

Drop the seed & cover with dirt:

And miracle of miracles, by the time I'm mad

just as I've forgotten & called them dead

a leaf unbends itself, 

pushing up the dirt.

And sword

And water

And bread

O seed of life.

Seed of Christ

in my tilled up heart

I wait

I wait on you.

From shriveled marching letters

in worn and distant heart

Life springs new

New and new

How is it that it's always new?

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(I have been preparing to lead a Bible study and am once again face-to-face with the mystery and hard work involved in hearing/studying/contemplating/responding to Scripture. Thanks for the reminder of this poem, Mom! Reposted from 23 Sept 2011.)

beauty and bodies and girls

My friend Andrea is working on preparing to give talks on beauty to teen girls. This is such a hot, in-your-face-whether-you-want-it-or-not-hi-I-am-a-billboard yet rarely-spoken-of topic. We need some truth and clear perspective in these areas. What do you wish you heard growing up?

*****

So here’s what I wish–that someone would’ve said how awesome it is to be beautiful, how God has made us all with our very own beauty, how it reflects him when we steward that well. I needed to hear that beauty is incredibly powerful and we can either use it and/or hide it out of fear, shame, selfishness OR that we can enjoy it and cover it from a place of faith, hope and love.

I had this sense that beauty was powerful, but grew up thinking it was bad to attract attention for physical beauty, that the heart was the only thing that mattered. The heart is certainly the core, but from my observation a pure and beautiful heart will always spill out into how we care for ourselves (which includes our bodies!) and those around us. And this is undeniably attractive–on every level. Now I see that as we age, physical bodies begin to reflect more and more the realities of the heart and even at death, you can often see beautiful hearts glowing through decrepit bodies giving them an unutterable, encompassing beauty.

I think it takes a lot of courage for a parent to tell a daughter how awesome her body is and how valuable and good a full and nurtured beauty is. There is so much power in a young female body and we have all been pummeled and hounded by the experience of watching that mis-stewarded and mis-treated in subtle and horrific and culturally acceptable, but devastating ways. Girls are told so many lies about their bodies (and very selves), but then we read Scripture and see how happy God is about our bodies (and selves) and how on purpose and thoughtful he is about all of the pieces–our relational needs, our physical needs, our sexuality, our vulnerability, our power.

Modesty is beautiful, but modesty is always a covering out of honor, not covering out of shame.

I love how many beautiful women are in the Bible. References off the top of my head–women in Genesis, Esther and Ruth, the woman in Song of Songs, 1 Pet 3:5. Then there are things about us, how carefully God crafts and sees us–Genesis 1 & 5, Psalm 139, Lk 12:7. Thoughts about God and beauty–his lavish work in creation, his care for the physical beauty of the temple (and how does this apply to his church now?), Ps 19, descriptions of the overwhelming beauty of God in prophets and Revelation. He is clearly concerned about beauty. His is an all-consuming, ferocious beauty.

*****

So, this will probably continue percolating in my soul for the rest of my days, only felt increasingly deeply as I love daughters and nieces and girls growing up today. I invite reflections and thoughts, especially from my friends with daughters. What do you wish that you had heard? What true and good things about beauty have you learned from God, from experience?

What do you want to make sure is spoken to the girls that you love?

beautiful truth

rejoice!

This little girl is learning and growing! What a joy and a miracle!

 The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made.

Ps 145:9

How have you seen his goodness and compassion toward you today?

little valentine

the cool thing that's not cool

I get so bored when I hear about normal life. When I watch people dear to me live the same routine over and over--up, eat, work, pay a bill, eat, clean, watch a show, sleep, repeat 8 bajillion times. Go to Disneyland every once in awhile. I hate it. It makes me sick. It makes me bored. I hate it. I hate it.

I want do do important things. Things that mean something, but sometimes I love air conditioning and safety too much.

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Slowly working my way through Isaiah, I've made it to chapter 58.

Justice. Social justice. I remember being at Multnomah Bible College, watching Kindra put up verses about justice around campus and having no idea what this was all about. Now it's all over the place.

Like this newly discovered thing. Ooo. Justice. Let's have a conference about it. Let's serve food at the rescue mission (and wash our hands and clothes really well afterward). Let's give a micro-loan or a chicken for Christmas (make sure it's tax deductible). Let's give money to the homeless guy (actually a gift card so he doesn't spend it on alcohol).

Awesome. You are so awesome. Is that what we want? To be noted for our awesomeness?

It all feels so particularly trendy right now. But this is so counter to what Isaiah 58 is all about.

Is not this the fast that I choose:
   to loose the bonds of wickedness,
   to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
   and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
   and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover him,
   and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?
Then shall your light break forth like the dawn,
   and your healing shall spring up speedily;
your righteousness shall go before you;
   the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
   you shall cry, and he will say, 'Here I am.'
If you take away the yoke from your midst,
   the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness,
if you pour yourself out for the hungry
   and satisfy the desire of the afflicted,
then shall your light rise in the darkness
   and your gloom be as the noonday. 
And the Lord will guide you continually
   and satisfy your desire in scorched places
   and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
   like a spring of water,
   whose waters do not fail.
And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
   you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called repairer of the breach,
   the restorer of streets to dwell in. (Isaiah 58:6-12)

I hear God speak and ask myself this: is my movement toward justice a living, daily sacrifice or is it a sign of my awesomeness? Because if it's about how cool I am, I'm all wrong.

I'm rocked by this: Am I living in a daily posture of
      sharing the bread that I baked?
      welcoming the homeless poor into my clean home?
      taking my time to cover exposed shame and wounds of the vulnerable?
Am I allowing myself to
      be truly seen by those nearest me?
      reject wickedness?
      break yokes?
      pour myself out in satisfying the desire of the afflicted?

Nope. Awkward. Sounds like over-involvement. Honestly, I pull back from the uncomfortable, ill and awkward. Not worthy of facebook or pinterest, more the feeling of an unshowered morning. Yuck.

And yet, when we gave past what we were able, when we shared a meal against our better judgment, when I listen long enough to see and dress a soul wound, when I actually have courage to call it a yoke/sin/oppression/wound and mourn about it in myself and others, when I choose community over independence, when I stand against the flow of our cultural and individual wickedness, when I give and think to satisfy another--oh, dear--

this is when life starts.

It seems so small. How could I possibly be living a fantastic adventure right here at the Garden View Apartments?

Not sure, but I will say this: I have traveled the world. And take it or leave it. That's not where deep adventure is. Deep adventure is this--living fully present, living a life of justice here and now and today.  Stepping forward. Seeing each unperfect person as perfectly loved by God and doing all that I can to let them know this.

So...will I do it? Will I open up the door of my home and my heart? I haven't cleaned the bathroom yet. So maybe not.

But maybe.

I can start by cuddling Sophia. Let's see what happens next.

Come, Lord Jesus.