Today I spent the day with Grampy Perry. We were making somehing in his workshop, something I had an idea for and knew he could help change it from an idea in my head to something polished and smooth in my hands because, like Jesus, he's a carpenter.
Grampy took me to Wendy's for lunch and we both ordered cheeseburgers and french fries and I had some chili too, and we got the senior discount. We sat at a booth and he told me stories about when he was my age, except he was my age during a war and was fixing broken fighter planes in Canada, and in Holland and England and France. And I'm not sure things were actually all that different, except he was probably a great deal more responsible than I and probably has a greater appreciation for life and family and God, but then, I've experienced some of the brutalities and lonlinesses of war too - a different sort of war though.
What I mean when I say things weren't all that different is that he had friends and adventures and hopes and dreams, his heart beat quickened at the thoughts of romance, and he got caught off guard every once in a while with tears in his eyes when he realized the hurt in this world and the healing grace of God.
My favorite part of today was watching Grampy work in his workshop. He does it so effortlessly, with such an appealing style. such a desirable pace. Grampy lives hastelessly, which is to say he doesn't rush through one moment in order to get to the next. He's one of the only people in the world who actually drives the speed limit, which is evidence, I think, that he is not hurried or anxious, his heart is at rest - at rest in Christ according the prayer he prayed over our burgers.
Watching his leathery hands take some scraps of wood and shape them into something beautiful, valuable, special made me want to live more like him - with the same style, the same pace, the same rest.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Sunday, August 28, 2005
nova...
...which means 'new' or even 'fresh, unspoiled.' and that is certainly the way things have looked to me, smelled to me, felt to me today. i am at my nova scotian home and somehow today the colors and scents and emotions of nova scotia were more vivid than they ever have been. it is beautiful and i am at rest. this will be a week of contemplation and celebration - celebrating the family relationships i have been blessed with (while playing with my little cousin bradon today i asked him who his favorite ninja turtle is, he responded, "you cousin aram") - contemplating and planning for the terrain ahead, the 'terra nova.'
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
God-kisses
They are moments - brief and sweet. Like the other night, returning from our weekly shower with adventures behind and relationships established, somewhat clean, somewhat comfortable. As I was walking to the wild-side of camp, my eyes (for some reason) drawn up and they took it in as best they could. Took in the magnificence of a flying bird. Simple perhaps, profound I think - with its wings spread out like it was hugging the wind, up there playing, dancing, soaring near the sunbathed cloud, all orange and pink, that I wanted so desperately to touch. Heart stopping.
God bless you. God kiss you.
Leaving Summer's Best Two Weeks tomorrow after lunch. It has been a month of pure and steady growth, or is communion a better description, or is it what Lewis described on page 117 in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe when he wrote, "that deep shiver of gladness which you only get if you are being solemn and still." But then I suppose, for that to work, you would have to believe it possible to be completely engaged in the active work of the Kingdom of God (whether biking, hiking, or wiping runny noses) while also being 'solemn and still.' I happen to believe it.
God bless you. God kiss you.
Leaving Summer's Best Two Weeks tomorrow after lunch. It has been a month of pure and steady growth, or is communion a better description, or is it what Lewis described on page 117 in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe when he wrote, "that deep shiver of gladness which you only get if you are being solemn and still." But then I suppose, for that to work, you would have to believe it possible to be completely engaged in the active work of the Kingdom of God (whether biking, hiking, or wiping runny noses) while also being 'solemn and still.' I happen to believe it.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
from matt in fiji
my dear friend and brother, matthew, sent me an email on july 20 from fiji's capital city. he is working/living/minsitering with an organization committed to Christian based community, a missional approach to living, simplicity, spiritual formation, and education through experience and adventure. in his email he wrote, 'the pictures of Christ here are so visceral and tangible.'
which is of course to say that he is daily encountering very raw and real and fleshy examples of what it means to be like Jesus -- he is doing theology as it is meant to be done, by living it out, by entering into the stories of others and so entering into The Story (Kingdom/Life) of God.
perhaps we could learn a thing or two from matt -- for i'd wager that if we'd open our eyes wide enough (whether we're on an edenesque fijian island or standing in line at wal-mart) we too would realize that we have the opportunity to touch and be touched by Jesus everyday in a very visceral way.
which is of course to say that he is daily encountering very raw and real and fleshy examples of what it means to be like Jesus -- he is doing theology as it is meant to be done, by living it out, by entering into the stories of others and so entering into The Story (Kingdom/Life) of God.
perhaps we could learn a thing or two from matt -- for i'd wager that if we'd open our eyes wide enough (whether we're on an edenesque fijian island or standing in line at wal-mart) we too would realize that we have the opportunity to touch and be touched by Jesus everyday in a very visceral way.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
dancing really
'Heavenly Father - Thy whole creation, sun, moon, and stars, and this blessed earth which thou hast made with thy hands in all its beauty, and every creature of this earth whom thou has given life, all of them shout forth in joy and praise of thee save only man whose mouth is stopped with words. Forgive us what we speak and what we know not how to speak. Forgive our world, we pray thee, thy world, which thou hast left us free to grieve and break. Make thyself known to all who are broken in spirit or in flesh, and that is all of us. Grant us thy peace, Lord, which the world can neither give nor take away, they peace that exists only in the eye of the storm, the heart of the battle. Grant us finally they joy of the man on the cross. We ask it in his name. Amen.' (f.buechner)
I spent the week noticing the hand-crafted beauty that manages to out-speak, out-pray, and out-worship us. Spent it with a collection of 14 middle class white kids, leading them - along side of two fine fellow wilderness savvy guides - through adventures of all sorts. Dancing really. Dancing with cliffs, rocks, river, rain, mountain, cave, falls, and fire. Dancing with the Bible, dancing with relationships, dancing with questions of faith and questions of fact. And it was a good dance. I stepped on toes no doubt. I'm foot-sore now. But still enjoying the music and the memories of the motion.
The cave is miraculous. It's a different world in there; you forget that this other one even exists, and it's awesome. I wrote in my journal about something I saw in the cave...
'There was a loose rock very evidently and intentionally placed by the creative sparkle of God's attention to the slightest detail and wonder. It was loose as I said, but had obviously rested on that ledge for some time, according the shallow divet made by persistant water droplets. Its looseness allowed it to be moved easily, and moved it was, rather carelessly, though not vindictively, by one who passed by. And that small miracle ceased as a result. Placed with a casual indifference where the water drops would strike it no longer and the divet would be made no deeper. It made me think of the delicate miracles I pass by during the days of my life - the ones I notice, like the fragility and beauty of a young lady's heart, the power and importance of family, the tender and nourishing richness of the created and natural works of God, friendship, and opportunities to love and be loved. It made me think of how much more I long to treat these delicacies as such, to cherish the ones I recognize all the more, and to realize the ones I miss.'
I spent the week noticing the hand-crafted beauty that manages to out-speak, out-pray, and out-worship us. Spent it with a collection of 14 middle class white kids, leading them - along side of two fine fellow wilderness savvy guides - through adventures of all sorts. Dancing really. Dancing with cliffs, rocks, river, rain, mountain, cave, falls, and fire. Dancing with the Bible, dancing with relationships, dancing with questions of faith and questions of fact. And it was a good dance. I stepped on toes no doubt. I'm foot-sore now. But still enjoying the music and the memories of the motion.
The cave is miraculous. It's a different world in there; you forget that this other one even exists, and it's awesome. I wrote in my journal about something I saw in the cave...
'There was a loose rock very evidently and intentionally placed by the creative sparkle of God's attention to the slightest detail and wonder. It was loose as I said, but had obviously rested on that ledge for some time, according the shallow divet made by persistant water droplets. Its looseness allowed it to be moved easily, and moved it was, rather carelessly, though not vindictively, by one who passed by. And that small miracle ceased as a result. Placed with a casual indifference where the water drops would strike it no longer and the divet would be made no deeper. It made me think of the delicate miracles I pass by during the days of my life - the ones I notice, like the fragility and beauty of a young lady's heart, the power and importance of family, the tender and nourishing richness of the created and natural works of God, friendship, and opportunities to love and be loved. It made me think of how much more I long to treat these delicacies as such, to cherish the ones I recognize all the more, and to realize the ones I miss.'
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
boyhood
I'm in PA - I'll be working at Summer's Best Two Weeks (www.sb2w.org) for the next month, guiding wilderness adventure trips and ministering along side of a quality group of men and women. Arrived on Monday (11th) and was on a bus en route to our rock climbing destination with a group of 15 boys early the next morning. I love the raw energy of boyhood. I spend the day watching (and joining) boys of all ages as they climbed cliffs, scrambled on rocks, pushed over trees, captured and cooked craw fish, slid off a waterfall into a cool pool of fresh water - as they devoured hot dogs, toasted wet shoes over the fire, and as they couldn't possibly refrain from playing with flaming sticks. Theirs was a refreshing presence to be in. One of the other counselors asked me to tell the boys about how I met Jesus - I ended up telling them what I have found the way of Jesus to be like since I met him. I told them that I think, if we listen quietly - quietly enough to hear the music of the rain or the sound of a baby sleeping - then we'll probably hear, each morning when we wake up and our hearts are the most vulnerable, the Spirit of Jesus whispering something about an adventure, something of an invitation; and maybe we should start asking if we can be a part, or just start being -- 'enjoy being' as the bumper sticker on the small pink car on Central Avenue in Indianapolis says. The raw energy of boyhood, that's what it is - it's being, and enjoying it. We could all learn a bit from such childlike enthusiasm.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
thots to ponder
"Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish in the mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God and not in God himself." -- miguel de unamuno
"We have been content for too long to netiher believe nor disbelieve but to accept God as a comfortable old habit rather than a burning passion." -- thomas yorty
"God is always bigger than the boxes we build for God. So we should not waste too much time protecting the boxes." -- richard rohr
"We have been content for too long to netiher believe nor disbelieve but to accept God as a comfortable old habit rather than a burning passion." -- thomas yorty
"God is always bigger than the boxes we build for God. So we should not waste too much time protecting the boxes." -- richard rohr
a conversation i didn't have
I'm reading 'The Last and the Word After That' by Brian McLaren. It's sort of about hell and how hell has been perceived in Western Protestant circles for the past few hundred years and how some of those perceptions might not be all right. But more than that it is about the process of becoming and growing in the presence and accountability of community as guided by the Spirit of God and divinely-placed friendships.
It's format is a quasi-narrated collection of hypothetical and imagined dialogues, so, in keeping with that here's one I didn't have...
'I don't really approve of all the ideas in this book, I don't like where they lead. That is, to the denial of the truth (unfotunate truth though it may be) of hell.'
"Why are you so reluctant to let go of hell?"
'Why are you so frivolous as to deny hell?'
"I think that's an unfair question. Perhaps I should rephrase myself; perhaps 'let go of' is not the best termonology. If I am frivolous it is in being willing to rethink hell, not by denying it."
'Well I think that is dangerous still, my question stands: Why bother rethinking something so rooted in tradition and scripture?'
"Alright, if I try to honestly answer your question will you try to honestly answer mine?"
'Deal.'
"I'm willing to rethink hell because the way it has traditionally been understood doesn't settle right."
'You mean it doesn't feel right - that's kind of shallow don't you think?'
"No, I mean it doesn't settle right. I'm not talking about finding a soft substitute for hell that feels good. I'm talking about at least looking for an understanding that setlles with our belief that God is good, just and loving."
'But if God is just then hell is fine, cause we all deserve it from the get go.'
"Granted. Maybe. But let me finish first. Then see what you think."
'Sure.'
"Thanks. I grew up understanding the point of Christianity to be believing in Jesus (which meant saying the right prayer and being good according to a certain list of goods and bads) so that I could go to heaven (and avoid going to hell - though nobody ever said much about that). This worked fine for me because all the people I really loved and cared about had said the same prayer and at least tried to abide by the same list. But then one time I asked my dad to autograph my Bible, because he is one of my heroes. He signed it and wrote 'John 10:10' under his name. It didn't do much for me then, probably because I didn't know anything but 'life to the full'. Still, it was there and the idea began to seep into my soul - and eventually caught me off-gaurd. The idea that the whole thing Jesus represented (which has most often been labeled, for better or worse, 'Christianity') was (is) something more than avoiding eternal suffering in hell. The idea that hell isn't the point, and nether is heaven for that matter. The point is to be for what God is for (which is, I think, the Kingdom of God - we should talk about that another time, it's hugely important) and to be against what God is against (things like sin and selfish arrogance and indifference and hate). So the grace that is so central to the gospel is not about a free ticket to heaven so much as it is about a free makeover - transformation. It is not so much a moment of grace (not to say that there aren't moments of grace) as it is a process of grace, a process of grace-full transformation - a process of becoming a person who identifies with Jesus in being (actively/courageously) for what God is for and against what God is against. I think that some of the things God is against are exclusion and suffering; these are parts of the Story (very real parts) that don't make God smile. So I wonder if we've gon wrong somewhere in our understanding and usage of hell, just as I was wrong in my undertanding and usage of Christianity (thinking it was about me and my eternal destiny rather than about God and God's all encompassing Kingdom - perhaps we should talk sometime about eternal destiny vs. eternal identity). I wonder if, maybe, God is interested in something more than what we've made this whole thing out to be. So, where in lies your reluctance?"
(then I think the phone rang or the cat knocked over a glass of orange juice on the kitchen table so the conversation was never finished. but, really, is it ever?)
It's format is a quasi-narrated collection of hypothetical and imagined dialogues, so, in keeping with that here's one I didn't have...
'I don't really approve of all the ideas in this book, I don't like where they lead. That is, to the denial of the truth (unfotunate truth though it may be) of hell.'
"Why are you so reluctant to let go of hell?"
'Why are you so frivolous as to deny hell?'
"I think that's an unfair question. Perhaps I should rephrase myself; perhaps 'let go of' is not the best termonology. If I am frivolous it is in being willing to rethink hell, not by denying it."
'Well I think that is dangerous still, my question stands: Why bother rethinking something so rooted in tradition and scripture?'
"Alright, if I try to honestly answer your question will you try to honestly answer mine?"
'Deal.'
"I'm willing to rethink hell because the way it has traditionally been understood doesn't settle right."
'You mean it doesn't feel right - that's kind of shallow don't you think?'
"No, I mean it doesn't settle right. I'm not talking about finding a soft substitute for hell that feels good. I'm talking about at least looking for an understanding that setlles with our belief that God is good, just and loving."
'But if God is just then hell is fine, cause we all deserve it from the get go.'
"Granted. Maybe. But let me finish first. Then see what you think."
'Sure.'
"Thanks. I grew up understanding the point of Christianity to be believing in Jesus (which meant saying the right prayer and being good according to a certain list of goods and bads) so that I could go to heaven (and avoid going to hell - though nobody ever said much about that). This worked fine for me because all the people I really loved and cared about had said the same prayer and at least tried to abide by the same list. But then one time I asked my dad to autograph my Bible, because he is one of my heroes. He signed it and wrote 'John 10:10' under his name. It didn't do much for me then, probably because I didn't know anything but 'life to the full'. Still, it was there and the idea began to seep into my soul - and eventually caught me off-gaurd. The idea that the whole thing Jesus represented (which has most often been labeled, for better or worse, 'Christianity') was (is) something more than avoiding eternal suffering in hell. The idea that hell isn't the point, and nether is heaven for that matter. The point is to be for what God is for (which is, I think, the Kingdom of God - we should talk about that another time, it's hugely important) and to be against what God is against (things like sin and selfish arrogance and indifference and hate). So the grace that is so central to the gospel is not about a free ticket to heaven so much as it is about a free makeover - transformation. It is not so much a moment of grace (not to say that there aren't moments of grace) as it is a process of grace, a process of grace-full transformation - a process of becoming a person who identifies with Jesus in being (actively/courageously) for what God is for and against what God is against. I think that some of the things God is against are exclusion and suffering; these are parts of the Story (very real parts) that don't make God smile. So I wonder if we've gon wrong somewhere in our understanding and usage of hell, just as I was wrong in my undertanding and usage of Christianity (thinking it was about me and my eternal destiny rather than about God and God's all encompassing Kingdom - perhaps we should talk sometime about eternal destiny vs. eternal identity). I wonder if, maybe, God is interested in something more than what we've made this whole thing out to be. So, where in lies your reluctance?"
(then I think the phone rang or the cat knocked over a glass of orange juice on the kitchen table so the conversation was never finished. but, really, is it ever?)
Friday, July 01, 2005
pk's comment
Paul commented on 'Romance...' --- "For some reason, this is the line that really stuck out to me: 'For those who believe in God it is all the purity and wonder of God's grace. And for those who don't I'm not sure that it's anything less than that anyway.' Any thoughts on why that might have stuck out to me? "
one thot: it might have something to do with the fact that you would get along well with julie (a delightful lady we met together who, if one were to use labels, could be labeled as conservative) AND you would get along well with her sister (who we were told was a bit more on the liberal side, or rather on the other side of the liberal side) - the fact that you realize the value of patiently living the gospel into people's lives, rather than force feeding it to them, and living the gospel into people's lives requires a certain (or uncertain) patience, an understanding that some people will call grace by Its name and others will not, not yet - you recognize the harm done by approaching the gospel as an item to sell and therefore approaching your neighbor as a consumer rather than as your neighbor. Sure the gospel ought to stir in us a sense of urgency - but it is not the urgency of a salesman trying to force his merchandise, it is the urgency of a gardener watering her budding flowers, patiently desiring their scent and awaiting their beauty. It is the urgency of Romance.
one thot: it might have something to do with the fact that you would get along well with julie (a delightful lady we met together who, if one were to use labels, could be labeled as conservative) AND you would get along well with her sister (who we were told was a bit more on the liberal side, or rather on the other side of the liberal side) - the fact that you realize the value of patiently living the gospel into people's lives, rather than force feeding it to them, and living the gospel into people's lives requires a certain (or uncertain) patience, an understanding that some people will call grace by Its name and others will not, not yet - you recognize the harm done by approaching the gospel as an item to sell and therefore approaching your neighbor as a consumer rather than as your neighbor. Sure the gospel ought to stir in us a sense of urgency - but it is not the urgency of a salesman trying to force his merchandise, it is the urgency of a gardener watering her budding flowers, patiently desiring their scent and awaiting their beauty. It is the urgency of Romance.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
romance (the embrace)
what i wrote about 'Romance after all' was, i think, an attempt to hint at something (or Something) that has more to do with the way of God than it does the way of a man with a woman (though God knows I believe the latter is a beautiful manifestation and echo of the former). and it was somewhat of a poetic attempt, probably unclear, probably for my own sake more than anything. still, if you haven't read it yet - do so, and if you have, perhaps do so again -- and then read the following selection from 'A Generous Orthodoxy' that, i feel, captures that which i was directing my hints toward:
'I am more and more convinced that Jesus didn't come merely to start another religion to compete in the marketplace of other religions. If anything, I believe he came to end standard competitive religion...by fulfilling it; I believe he came to open up something beyond religion - a new possibility, a realm, a domain, a territory of the spirit that welcomes everyone but requires everyone to think again and become like little children. It is not, like too many religions [even/especially Christianity often times], a place of fear and exclusion but a blace beyond fear and exlusion. It is a place where everyone can find a home in the embrace of God.'
That Something-beyond, that Embrace, that Possibility - that is Romance, as i understand it (and as i don't).
ps - today i finished 'A Generous Orthodoxy' by Brian McLaren (www.anewkindofchristian.com) - it's intense, it's superb, it's comforting, inspiring, challenging, encouraging --- started reading 'Vagabonding: An Uncommon Guide to the Art of Long-Term World Travel' at the recommendation of my friend and a kindred spirit Paul Kind (www.paulkind.blogspot.com) and in preparation for the Trail ahead...
'I am more and more convinced that Jesus didn't come merely to start another religion to compete in the marketplace of other religions. If anything, I believe he came to end standard competitive religion...by fulfilling it; I believe he came to open up something beyond religion - a new possibility, a realm, a domain, a territory of the spirit that welcomes everyone but requires everyone to think again and become like little children. It is not, like too many religions [even/especially Christianity often times], a place of fear and exclusion but a blace beyond fear and exlusion. It is a place where everyone can find a home in the embrace of God.'
That Something-beyond, that Embrace, that Possibility - that is Romance, as i understand it (and as i don't).
ps - today i finished 'A Generous Orthodoxy' by Brian McLaren (www.anewkindofchristian.com) - it's intense, it's superb, it's comforting, inspiring, challenging, encouraging --- started reading 'Vagabonding: An Uncommon Guide to the Art of Long-Term World Travel' at the recommendation of my friend and a kindred spirit Paul Kind (www.paulkind.blogspot.com) and in preparation for the Trail ahead...
Monday, June 27, 2005
Romance after all
With the weddings and other circumstances and conversations in my life I've continued to ponder... What is Romance after all?
Or perhaps we could ask, 'Is Romance after all?' And answer quite truthfully, 'Yes it is after all, and before all for that matter, and possibly within all and without.' But then we would be asked, 'Surely you're not talking abou the romance that I hear so much about - the romance of Danielle Steele novels and Hollywood's racey sex scenes?' To which we would reply, 'Surely not. The Romance we speak of is something else all together.' 'And what is that?'
It's the beauty of simplicity; hearts sculpted into one heart. It is a bigger view of life - life more colorful and colors more vivid, crisp. It is music sounding sweeter - or sadder. It is breathing deeper and enjoying the air. It is existing and more than exisiting; it is enjoying and more than enjoying. It is embracing laughter, the kind that brings tears to your eyes, and it is embracing tears, the kind that, ultimately, ends in laughter. It is experiencing companionship and knowing it to be sensational. It is appreciating intimacy and recognizing it to be sacred. It is a taste, a hint, a glimpse, a memory of Something. Something divine and right and intended. For those who believe in God it is all the purity and wonder of God's grace. And for those who don't I'm not sure that it's anything less than that anyway. It is something captured and something caught - elusive but tangible, felt. Romance inspires and grips and stirs - it breaks and reforms the heart
Let Romance reign in the hearts of lovers, in the hearts of children, of women and men both old and young. Let Romance be restored (for it is distorted, unrecognized, unrealized) and redeemed - that those within It, experiencing It may restore, redeem.
May eyes wet easier, hilarity overtake more readily. May Love govern all. And through the thin veil of Romance may the Author - Whoever that may be - be seen, be known.
Or perhaps we could ask, 'Is Romance after all?' And answer quite truthfully, 'Yes it is after all, and before all for that matter, and possibly within all and without.' But then we would be asked, 'Surely you're not talking abou the romance that I hear so much about - the romance of Danielle Steele novels and Hollywood's racey sex scenes?' To which we would reply, 'Surely not. The Romance we speak of is something else all together.' 'And what is that?'
It's the beauty of simplicity; hearts sculpted into one heart. It is a bigger view of life - life more colorful and colors more vivid, crisp. It is music sounding sweeter - or sadder. It is breathing deeper and enjoying the air. It is existing and more than exisiting; it is enjoying and more than enjoying. It is embracing laughter, the kind that brings tears to your eyes, and it is embracing tears, the kind that, ultimately, ends in laughter. It is experiencing companionship and knowing it to be sensational. It is appreciating intimacy and recognizing it to be sacred. It is a taste, a hint, a glimpse, a memory of Something. Something divine and right and intended. For those who believe in God it is all the purity and wonder of God's grace. And for those who don't I'm not sure that it's anything less than that anyway. It is something captured and something caught - elusive but tangible, felt. Romance inspires and grips and stirs - it breaks and reforms the heart
Let Romance reign in the hearts of lovers, in the hearts of children, of women and men both old and young. Let Romance be restored (for it is distorted, unrecognized, unrealized) and redeemed - that those within It, experiencing It may restore, redeem.
May eyes wet easier, hilarity overtake more readily. May Love govern all. And through the thin veil of Romance may the Author - Whoever that may be - be seen, be known.
moosen, marriage, and memories
Having weathered the weather, muscled the mosquitoes, relished in relationships and experienced the enigma of the created wilderness I returned with 13 students and a homesick Mr. Gelatt to the Heritage Christian parking lot one week and 12 hours ago. Algonquin Provincial park was flourishing in its beauty, in spite of the grey skies that loomed steadily over us all week long (we were granted a glimpse of the stars and the setting sun on our final night in the park). Saw about 7 moosen (others saw 8, but I was in the rear canoe so one escaped before I got a visual).
Have successfully gotten 4 couples of friends through their wedding ceremonies and started into the epic adventure of marriage. Blair and Danielle MacDonald - May 14. Joshua and Elizabeth Hazelton - June 4. KennethCole and Julianna Isgar - June 11. Andrew and Shelley 'the dool' Brautigam - June 25. Beautiful brides. Regal grooms. Fabulous celebrations. And some marriages that I truly believe in and am excited about.
And have reflected upon memories (of the past four years specifically) as I said some very significant goodbyes to college friends at the final wedding. Significant goodbyes because they were (are) significant friendships.
Anticipating/expecting/awaiting more memories to reflect upon 4 and 8 and 12 and 50 years from now...
Have successfully gotten 4 couples of friends through their wedding ceremonies and started into the epic adventure of marriage. Blair and Danielle MacDonald - May 14. Joshua and Elizabeth Hazelton - June 4. KennethCole and Julianna Isgar - June 11. Andrew and Shelley 'the dool' Brautigam - June 25. Beautiful brides. Regal grooms. Fabulous celebrations. And some marriages that I truly believe in and am excited about.
And have reflected upon memories (of the past four years specifically) as I said some very significant goodbyes to college friends at the final wedding. Significant goodbyes because they were (are) significant friendships.
Anticipating/expecting/awaiting more memories to reflect upon 4 and 8 and 12 and 50 years from now...
Sunday, June 12, 2005
journey north
Now pretty well prepared for the pilgrimage ahead (spending the next 8 days in the northern Canadian wilderness with 13 senior high school students from Heritage Christian canoeing and camping and battling mosquitoes) - prepared, anyway, in whatever way one may be prepared for such a thing. A few thots thrown together, some clothes and gear piled up ready to be packed, a heart that is somewhat centered and mind that is somewhat settled, a body somewhat rested - and a recollection that before the adventure is over I will have received a whole lot of much needed strength, guidance, and energy from God-above/God-within.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Way of the Wind
'He felt an uncertainty in the air, a feeling of change and of loss and of gain of new and unfamiliar things.'
Well said Steinbeck. I feel the same. That air of uncertainty, that curiosity about things unfamiliar. And really I'm thrilled about it; thrilled and rather frightened. But some of life's best things are like that -- paddling a canoe across the middle of a lake when a storm stirs the waves to a threatening height and rain pelts your face -- standing in front of a person, a group of people, or a crowd with words to speak regarding the good (and unbelievable) news about God's love toward humanity and all of creation -- simply (complexly) falling in love -- then one day making those vows in front of relatives and friends and God (as some of my dearest friends have and will this summer) to the one you're supposed to love and cherish for the rest of your life. Thrilling and frightening.
I heard a story about a man who would feel for the direction of the wind on his cheek and travel in that direction until the wind shifted his course, all the while trusing that God was with him, somehow guiding his steps. I like that story.
I carry a small piece of paper in my wallet with a few words scribbled on it. I can't remember where they came from - but here's what they are:
'My eyes are blinking with secrets of God half blind, but I can see where the wind goes and follow the way of the wind.'
That's not to say that I plan on being one of those rooster shaped metal things on the top of barns. But I do have a pretty steady belief in the Wind of God, the Breath of God, the Spirit of God (greek: pneuma/hebrew: ruah). And in that sense I am very intent upon following the Way of the Wind - I'm not always good at it, but I'm an aspiring wind-traveller.
And so, being thrilled and frightened about the uncertainty within me and the unfamiliar before me I endeavor to wander a bit during this next season of life. (Noting our friend, Tolkien's, reminder that: 'Not all those who wander are lost.')
I read a line once about how theology is crafted out of stories that are lived and shared. So I guess we could say I am proposing to be a wandering-theologian -- for I certainly intend to live stories, listen to stories, and leave stories. I intend to be a sort of backwards pirate, or perhaps a pirate as pirates were meant to be -- wind guided men who journeyed place to place, person to person dispensing treasure and setting captives free.
And here, on the canvas of the internet, I intend to log some of those wanderings, those encounters, and maybe even manage to articulate some of the thoughts I'm thinking along the way.
And I welcome you as a journey-companion.
Well said Steinbeck. I feel the same. That air of uncertainty, that curiosity about things unfamiliar. And really I'm thrilled about it; thrilled and rather frightened. But some of life's best things are like that -- paddling a canoe across the middle of a lake when a storm stirs the waves to a threatening height and rain pelts your face -- standing in front of a person, a group of people, or a crowd with words to speak regarding the good (and unbelievable) news about God's love toward humanity and all of creation -- simply (complexly) falling in love -- then one day making those vows in front of relatives and friends and God (as some of my dearest friends have and will this summer) to the one you're supposed to love and cherish for the rest of your life. Thrilling and frightening.
I heard a story about a man who would feel for the direction of the wind on his cheek and travel in that direction until the wind shifted his course, all the while trusing that God was with him, somehow guiding his steps. I like that story.
I carry a small piece of paper in my wallet with a few words scribbled on it. I can't remember where they came from - but here's what they are:
'My eyes are blinking with secrets of God half blind, but I can see where the wind goes and follow the way of the wind.'
That's not to say that I plan on being one of those rooster shaped metal things on the top of barns. But I do have a pretty steady belief in the Wind of God, the Breath of God, the Spirit of God (greek: pneuma/hebrew: ruah). And in that sense I am very intent upon following the Way of the Wind - I'm not always good at it, but I'm an aspiring wind-traveller.
And so, being thrilled and frightened about the uncertainty within me and the unfamiliar before me I endeavor to wander a bit during this next season of life. (Noting our friend, Tolkien's, reminder that: 'Not all those who wander are lost.')
I read a line once about how theology is crafted out of stories that are lived and shared. So I guess we could say I am proposing to be a wandering-theologian -- for I certainly intend to live stories, listen to stories, and leave stories. I intend to be a sort of backwards pirate, or perhaps a pirate as pirates were meant to be -- wind guided men who journeyed place to place, person to person dispensing treasure and setting captives free.
And here, on the canvas of the internet, I intend to log some of those wanderings, those encounters, and maybe even manage to articulate some of the thoughts I'm thinking along the way.
And I welcome you as a journey-companion.
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