Slow Steps

I went down to Ensenada, Mexico today with some friends to explore starting a photo project among kids in a community there.  Okay, some of them are going to do a photo project; I tagged along.  The purpose is to highlight the talents, hearts and perspectives of children in this community-- a human settlement established about 20 years ago.  The project would have kids doing basically the same assignment in several locations worldwide simultaneously.  Drawing them together in an exhibition will be fascinating and rich.

That's all incredible.  But what I thought about, as we walked streets so much like other settlement streets I've walked in Latin America, as we had conversations by front gates, as we let a community speak to us through its members, as we got to know a school director who really cares for his students and lights up at this opportunity, what I thought about was keeping my pace slow.  Literally.  I always forget that I'm an americana who walks like she needs to get somewhere.  Even when I don't.  This was the second or third time this week that I've needed to slow down to really walk alongside whoever I was with.

In that situation, I'm presented with two options.  I can either keep the pace that I like-- brisk and efficient-- and then pause periodically, or I can recalibrate and walk in agreement with my companion(s). 

Of course, I'm not just thinking about taking a stroll anymore.  =)  I'm thinking of ministry and partnership and my job and my lifestyle.  I'm thinking of the pastors I want to get to know, the people I might mentor, and the Jesus who walks with me.  I'm thinking about the agreement of walking together with God (Amos 3:3).

What if here were the only place I needed to get to?  And what if that covenanted companionship was the wonder and joy and goal?  Of course we'd still be going places.  It would still stretch my legs and expose me to smiles and sunlight and tears and tricky footing.  Yet, it would go at a pace that quiets my mind and settles me into the here and now so that I may hear and do with new faithfulness and trust.

That kind of sounds like a nice walk.

Gracias, Henri Nouwen

I didn't make it past the first page of the introduction without bursting into tears.  I didn't expect that.  I thought I would skim right through Gracias: A Latin American Journal-- and sure, I would be appreciative of Nouwen's incredible insight, but it wouldn't rock my socks off.  You see, I read Gracias almost five years ago, during my first summer in Mexico City on the Global Urban Trek.  My roommate and I shared a bed provided by our host family, and we shared this book as well, passing it back and forth, chapter by chapter, pushing through dusty days of struggling in Spanish.  So it's possible I could have missed something that first time.  =)  Further, I found new resonance as Nouwen writes lovingly of Lima, Peru and his months spent there.

THAT, I think, is what yanked at my heart on page "ix".  A cry escaped me as I read:

"It was there that I discovered for the first time that those who are marginalized by our society carry within them a great treasure for the church.  It was in Lima that I learned that without prayer and community all my pastoral activities would end up in fruitless burnout."

Nouwen jumped right in and named this tension I've felt for years-- loving Latin America deeply, identifying the wealth it offers us in faith, hope, love, and knowledge, and yet failing to find our call in that place.

"... my desire to live and work with the poor in Latin America was not matched with a concrete call... I also started to see that niether God nor God's people was asking me to make Bolivia, Peru, Guatemala, or Nicaragua my permanent home.  My experiences there, exciting and rewarding as they were, never led me to that deep inner 'imperative' that forms the center of a true call."

Exactly!  People often ask me, when they learn I've spent 3 summers in Mexico City, if I want to work there long-term.  Of course I do!  But each time I go, my little ears perked and swiveling for hints, I see that no, there are Mexicans/ Peruvians/ others to do this work.  That's what brings me back to the land where I have an imperative. 

"I so much wish I could be with my friends again and share whatever comfort and consolation I have to offer.  But I know that I must stay where I am called to be and suffer my feelings of powerlessness in solidarity with them.  More than ever I have to be faithful to those who have been given to me and trust that my little faithfulness will bear fruit, even when I don't know how or when.  More than ever I have to claim the spiritual truth that the poor of the world-- whether in Peru, or Toronto, or wherever we may be-- are given to the church so that the church may be revitalized and so the fire of love that Jesus brought will remain ablaze in our world.
      More than ever I have to believe in Jesus, whose short life, few words, and limited actions were boundless in their radiance because of his radical obedience to God.  More than ever I have to rely on the prayer of the heart that allows me to embrace people of all times and all places even when my life will be short and my travels few.  More than ever I have to be free to love with a love that is simple, direct, and open to anyone at any time, in the unshakeable conviction that such love can cast out all fear and overcome all the powers of destruction and death."

Mixed Media

I know, I haven't posted art stuff for far too long!  (Implied confession: I haven't been adequately exercising that part of the brain and spirit.)  I was thinking about it (yeah, in which time I could have drawn SOMETHING!), and began to consider all the other, practical ways I find artistic expression.  For example:

     rearranging furniture in my room, hanging pictures, filling wallspace...

  modelling my ministry role...

       

          cutting my hair...  (all by myself for the first time today!!!  yay!)

   cooking pretty food...

                                  making home-made cards and envelopes to send...

So not all art goes in a box... or a frame.  I have to say that living with other artsily-inclined individuals definitely helps the creative juices.  I'll promise you - and myself - something more traditionally art-ful.... next week.

To the Limit

In setting out a schedule and goals for myself today, I was thinking about an observation from a CRM colleague in South Africa.  He pointed out that most Westerners operate in a crazy breakneck cycle of solid work followed by a solid escape, break(down?) or vacation. 

There's no point in my wasting even a second pretending that I haven't done precisely that on MULTIPLE occasions.  So I started wondering why?  The first thing that came to mind was a pride in knowing my limits-- just how much I can take-- and a twisted, determined frugality that doesn't want to waste that capacity.  I do the same daredevil stunt with my car's gas tank.  (Yes, daredevil in my life involves some gasoline in a hose and a debit card.)  I like to get the tank as empty as possible before I stop to refuel.  Not at a half- or quarter-tank, but plumb empty.  And after 8 years with my Corolla, I know pretty well when that is.  Stopping earlier is somehow a capitulation, a confession of weakness and uncertainty.

With my life and with my car, I calculate according to an endpoint-- a limit.  Sure, I can do 4 days with less sleep.  I can handle a nonstop schedule for a week, right?  I can keep offering to help out-- as long as I haven't hit my end yet. 

But I have a feeling that abundant life is not found at the edge of a stranded breakdown.  So I'm looking for a rhythm of frequent refueling, and I'm lifting my gaze from that bottom line.  For surely, surely, satisfaction stems from things more profound than making it to the red E.

How to Meet the Neighbors

In moving different places, it's become clear that there is a narrow window of opportunity before it becomes quite awkward to make first contact with one's neighbors.  I've been thinking about strategies that work...

-delivering homemade cookies
  *** extra-effective if done while the power is out ***
-strolling by with a dolly/ moving equipment (obvious conversation-starter)
-wandering outside during high-traffic times: when trash goes out or when normal people get home from work
-sitting in common spaces: stoops, patios, laundry rooms
-mowing the yard with outrageously antiquated, environmentally friendly equipment  (another fail-safe conversation-starter)
-borrowing things and/ or asking for help (tools, blenders, an egg, etc.)

Other ideas?

Unpacked

Finally, bags are empty.  Drawers are full.  And I mostly know where things are. 

My car is being titled as a Californian, and I'm following suit with a voter's registration and license to match.

I haven't given this level of commitment to any place since I left home after high school.  In Massachusetts and Miami (and obviously Mexico City and Lima and all the other adventures in between), I held firmly to my Tennessee ties.  California wouldn't let me do that.  Literally, the state has strict residency laws that I couldn't get around.  =)  In some ways, though, it's refreshing to be all in.  Of course my family would still welcome me back home in a heartbeat (and I'm incredibly grateful for that), but I have taken my stuff and my car and my job to another place, so for now, it's home.

When I crossed the deserts of the southwest last month, I thought a lot about God taking the people of Israel through the desert.  I understood in a deeper way the profound meaning of springs and pools and blooms showing up in such a desolate place.  The thing about deserts is that they FORCE you to keep moving.  There's not even the slightest temptation to settle down and put up a white picket fence.  That would be ridiculous!  And so, as I see this time of wandering and formation as a time to let God lead and teach me in the way I should go, I think a little desert mentality can be a good thing.  San Diego isn't exactly wilderness, but it's not Canaan either.

Bags unpacked, but within easy reach.

Inspired

That was my primary reaction to the week of staff orientation (called First Things) with Church Resource Ministries.  Having technically been hired 9 months earlier, I didn't have huge expectations for the loaded week of sessions, training and activities.  But I really appreciated the work, thought and prayer that went into bringing staff on board well.  Even though I had completed my initial support-raising, the concepts taught were solid reinforcements to my own experiences.  Above all, the ethos of CRM shone through 7 full days.  There was a clear priority and emphasis placed on THE first thing in life and ministry: our relationship to Jesus.  Incredible people shared their stories and feedback to sharpen one another.  Vulnerability was clearly valued, with open tears and personal testimonies.  I was impressed by the fact that nearly everyone I spoke with mentioned a major point of growth that they had encounted in the past year or two.  No one had all their stuff figured out and squared away, regardless of age and experience.

Of course, we also went through financial protocols, IRS compliance and checklists galore.  There's no way to make some of those things living, inspiring pieces.  That's okay.  Through it all was a conviction of being in the right place at the right time.  I'm glad for new friendships, new respect for CRM, and new checkpoints with which to hone the ways I pursue ministry and call.  Onward we go!

"A woman loves beyond her questions
and dreams beyond her doubts."

I reached into my raincoat after writing yesterday's blog post and found those lyrics scribbled on a scrap of paper.  From an old (1991) Steve Wariner song-- totally out of context, but a well-written line.

Life with Questions

The wind is whipping savagely today-- it's an ugly snarl of weather compared to the gentle, sunny days I've known so far in San Diego.  In Tennessee I would worry about tornadoes.  In Miami I would have thought of tropical storms.  But here, I guess it's just wind?

Living in a new place gives you so much to learn.  Of course, there are the weather patterns-- which winds mean what, the cloud color that foretells rain, the quality of sunshine that will last for days.  There are the traffic patterns-- how to get where, what part of town to avoid when, which roads make good stand-bys and back-ups.  And then there are the people patterns-- who lives, who thrives, who fights and struggles.  Who buys what, and where.  Who is out on my street - and where are they from - and where are they going?
Even with the howling wind, I hear strains of the trucks that cruise the neighboring streets, selling something (I haven't actually seen them yet, just heard their competing tunes).  It's not the sing-song of an ice cream truck, but a trumpeting patriotic strain of bugling.  Its competitor (I imagine) toodles something similar to "Do your ears hang low?"  My roommate thinks they're vegetable vendor trucks.
Most afternoons, the little girl next door spends some time with an improvised tetherball.  It's something ball-ish, round, wrapped in grocery sacks, linked together and tied to a pole.

I spent a lot of the past week trying to figure out where I would be living for the imminent future here in San Diego.  (For those who don't know, my current house is going into foreclosure, so I needed a new place starting in February.  And God has provided!)  I looked, I prayed, I met potential roommates.  And I kept wondering, "Okay, really, am I here to be seriously invested in my community?  Or am I just going to live there?" 

In the past, I've let myself be content with unanswered questions-- questions about the veggie trucks, or the neighbors, or the girl playing plastic-bag tetherball.  I ask the questions - in my head, or maybe to a few friends - and the fact that I have the slip of information to ask makes me feel smart and observant.  I live there.  And I spin some stories out in my head.

I don't think that's the point of living, or the point of questions.  Questions are meant to create opportunities and incite something different.  Even when what they incite is not an answer, in the strictest sense, questions push us forward and outward, to a place of risk.  So, though I'm leaving Lantana Drive, I take questions with me.  Questions to ask and questions to live and questions that invite me to relate to other humans with a little extra love and concern.

Road-Trip Recap

From east to west, old friends, new friends, and SAND.  Sorry, didn't start taking pictures 'till halfway... Texas and Arkansas just didn't capture the imagination, for some reason.

Ready to Faspa?!  (traditional Mennonite meal for afternoons-- we overindulged after Abby's wedding) Seminole, TX

White Sands Nat'l Monument, NM.

Yellow sands on the Mexican border, west of Mexicali, CA, I think.

Made it to the Pacific Ocean!!!  San Diego, CA.

No awards here for great documentation, but it's a little taste of what we went through.  This land is your land, this land is my land...  =)

New City Sweet Home.

I made it to San Diego.  Thoughts to come on crossing the country and revving up.  For now, rest and re-orientation in a new place.

Finding Home

"Home.  What kinder place could there be on earth, and why did it seem to them all like exile?  Oh, to be passing anonymously through an impersonal landscape!  Oh, not to know every stump and stone, not to remember how the fields of Queen Anne's lace figured in the childish happiness they had offered to their father's hopes, God bless him.
"She had to speak to neighbors in their gardens, to acquaintances she met on the sidewalk.  Strangers in some vast, cold city might notice the grief in her eyes, even remember it for an hour or two as they would a painting or a photograph, but they would not violate her anonymity.  But these good souls would worry about her, mention her, and speculate to one another about her.  Dear God, she saw concern in their eyes, regret...
"That odd capacity for destitution, as if by nature we ought to have so much more than nature gives us.  As if we are shockingly unclothed when we lack the complacencies of ordinary life.  In destitution, even of feeling or purpose, a human being is more hauntingly human and vulnerable to kindnesses because there is the sense that things should be otherwise, and then the thought that what is wanting and what alleviation would be, and how the soul could ever be put at ease, restored.  At home.  But the soul finds its own home if it ever has a home at all."

-from Home by Marilynne Robinson

Praying for Christmas Joy

"Glory to you, O God!  Peace on earth!  Good will toward all people! 

My spirits sag, my voice stammers, as the angel song rings out once more.  For there is all too little of your glory to be discerned through the murky disarray of these times.  Surely there is no peace on earth.  Goodwill is thinned out and spread lightly upon the surface of human relationships.  The nations growl at one another, and the peoples of the earth shudder beneath the threat of annihilation.  Will the spirit of peace and goodwill prevail, O Lord?  Will the nations beat swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks?  The hope comes surging back as the angels sing against the skies of Christmas once again.
But even as I hope once more, I examine myself.  And in the light of the Christmas star, my spirits sag to half-mast and my voice stammers into confession of my own inadequacies.  I do not feel much glory in life right now.  I say "Merry Christmas," but it lacks much of a shine.  I am hurried and harried, my nerves all ajangle.  I take a time of peace and sing about it, while my nervous system screams protest against the pressures of the season. 
Sometimes, even when my good will is forced, and my jolly words are pushed through clinched teeth, I wish the whole thing were behind me so that I could be my cranky, crotchety self again, without feeling guilty.  Yet when I stop to think, I do not really wish it were all behind me.  I know there is a beauty I must not miss.  So relieve my mind and relax my tension by your Spirit, O God.  Take the pressure off and let me feel the Presence of the Child of Bethlehem."

-Rev. Dr. Kenneth Phifer

I really do like to feel what I'm supposed to feel at a given time.  At funerals, it is much more convenient to feel sad than to giggle uncontrollably at a wonky line in a hymn.  On birthdays, I want to feel upbeat about life.  In a class or workshop, I'm supposed to feel studious and inquisitive.  I think holidays carry a double-edged stress because there are so many idealized "supposed-to's" involved.  Christmas is king of that, with a trouncing religious celebration accompanied by family gooshiness by the ton.  And yet... we try to celebrate the birth of the savior of the world in the midst of troublesome people.  Those people get sick and they get short-tempered and their problems don't go away just because we're in a holiday season. 

Nor should their problems be sufficient to smother the beauty that we must not miss.  Even when I don't feel like pasting on a smile for bells and reindeer, there is a song to be sung-- a song that cries out for Emmanuel to come, that cries out for a world that needs the hope of Jesus, that cries out for all of us feeling the wrong things and looking for what's right.

Call for Connections

A way to test the connectivity potential of the web... =)  Driving a route from Nashville to San Diego, I'm looking for a few friendly places to stay as the year turns and I move west (Dec. 30 - Jan. 4).  Obviously with driving, I have some flexibility.  Know anyone along a route that hits Texarkana, Dallas and Tucson?  (Basically jumping down interstates 40, 30, 20 and 10!)

Let me know!

Ch-ch-ch-changes!

I haven't posted raw facts for awhile, mostly because I've been in a sort of neutral gear.  Not that things haven't been moving, but the motor hasn't been revved for any hills or rises.  That's good for me, I think-- as a person who loves to work and strive and get over the next hill and around the next bend.  As I putter along in the quiet of a stalled engine, God does astounding, wonderful things.

1.  Funding.  Wondrously, miraculously arrived at 93% funded.  Because nearly half of that came in one-time cash gifts that will parse out to see me through part of the year, I know that I'm nowhere close to being able to put up my feet and call it done, but it's still a fantastic thing to see.  Particularly because it gives me the go-ahead to...
2.  MOVE!  I have begun looking at maps and routes, and the current plan is to start driving right before New Year's, attend a dear friend's wedding in Texas, and roll into San Diego in the first week of January.
3.  And I will live in City Heights!  Thanks be to God, I have a place to live confirmed, with 2 housemates who've been living there for awhile (both women who work for InterVarsity in community colleges, who have also been on the Global Urban Trek-- fun connections).  The short version of the story is that a friend connected us in August, knowing that I was getting ready to come to San Diego... at some point.  Unfortunately, I had to keep pushing back my relocation date as I continued to raise support.  In October, I gave up trying to hold on to this living situation and assumed I was back to square one.  Along came the end of November, the plan to move SOON, and the need to find housing.  I began asking around again, and the room was still available!  Hooray!  The landlord hadn't charged rent on that room, simply praying that "the right person would come along to fill it." 

What peace-filled, wonderful gifts.  Many, many answers to prayer are woven through all the developments of the past few weeks, and I give thanks and praise to the God who is the author and giver of all good things.

Keeping Facebook

Great to hear from several folks in reaction to the last post in criticism of Facebook and similar media.  To confirm my flip-flopping non-alignment with the previous post-er =), here I'll share a Twitter bit in favor of using social media for the good of the gospel (thanks to Hannah for sending this to me!).  John Piper puts it eloquently:

Yes, there is truth in all of that, but instead of boycotting, try to fill these media with as much provocative, reasonable, Bible-saturated, prayerful, relational, Christ-exalting, truth-driven, serious, creative pointers to true greatness as you can.

I agree with Piper that not everyone is called to that-- it's for each person to work out how they will glorify God.  Not all of us should write books (or blogs!), any more than all of us should preach - or build buildings - or tend the sick - and so on.  I'll admit that some days when I log into facebook, my thoughts are centered on what a random person would perceive about me: what do my pictures and posts and interests and quotes say about me?  Those are days I'm not proud of; those are days I'd be better off writing a letter!  My hope is that the corrective is discipline, rather than amputation.  It's a discipline-- and a joy-- to exalt Christ and express love to my friends and acquaintances through various media.  I fondly think of a friend who, in reference to Christian responses to proliferating technologies, said that it seemed plausible that Jesus would have used a cell phone for its advantages-- and the Apostle Paul definitely would.

I think of that often in these fierce musings about whether we twitter or blog or call or email or send a status update.  I love the image of Paul with a cell phone, perhaps angrily pacing around while on the line with Corinth.  But it's true!  Paul thought it was vitally important to be in touch with the people he loved and the churches he had invested in.  As a man of integrity, he did what he could to minister to them over distances and through his sufferings.  Likewise, sorting through our menu of social outlets, will [facebook/ blackberry/ twitter/ etc.] advance our work and mission, or will it drag us down?  It's closely linked to questions of what it means to choose to live simply-- and to what end?  That's a much bigger discussion!

In the meantime, I'm content to do what I can, reaching people how I can-- with a patchwork of facebook and email, phone calls and meetings, skypes and texts and good old fashioned cards every now and then.  Be well, do good work, and keep in touch [by whatever means necessary]!

Leaving Facebook?

In the immortal words of Fiddler on the Roof-- "Unheard of!  Absurd!"  But in reality, I've heard more and more murmurs of discontent with the social network leviathan recently.  Whether from my peers' discontent with how much it's changed since we were in college, or from deeper philosophical sources like the blog excerpt below, that discontent raises good questions.  I've just pulled a tiny bit of Dan's writing on the matter:

so why did i leave facebook? haha. all in all it was a personal decision. all the arguments above weighed heavily on and largely influenced the train of thought that led me to now. which is why i spent so much time explaining them (hopefully i did it coherently enough). for the most part facebook was full of conversations about nothing. it’s a metaphor for narcissism among other things. we’ve recreated ourselves anew in the image of our ego. or rather we are created in the image of our technology. so we create our own gods. so perhaps all this is a really perverted form of vanity for we are idolizing ourselves. obviously this was not mine or anyone else’s intent upon first entering the medium but that’s why its significant to understand the metaphor. on facebook, you can be a new person. you can be a different person. you can be you! of course a person can seemingly use it responsibly but it still doesn’t justify how one imposes upon oneself a meaningless and impotent metaphor for being.


there’s also the argument for facebook being a rolodex of sorts, enabling us to keep in touch with people despite time and distance, you know, social networking. to this, each his/her own i suppose. but again i would set forth the argument of the impact of globalism. back in the day people’s communities were local. they sent letters to those far away or they didn’t and that was that. their narratives were stronger in that the wellness of their community was contingent upon the intimacy and proximity of its members. by stronger narratives i mean they had stories to tell. this idea of narrative warrants another post in and of itself but by and large its power is lost on us today. we no longer tell stories because there’s no need for it in a globalized community. which is why keeping in touch is a weak excuse when we do not even know our neighbors next door. unfortunately its all things local that suffer and the idea of ‘neighbor’ is fast becoming a social artifact. and of course the ramifications of such runs deep and wide especially when that jesus guy mentions a lot about it..neighbors. we have to wonder whether its the words that need redefining or if its something larger and systemic that needs fixing.


 if one is honest with themselves it is in fact a lie and a selfish thing to think facebook provides a way of community. at least this is what i found to be true for myself. sorry, i shall try my best not to universalize my experiences. the people i care about that are not local to me i already keep in touch with through means other than facebook. but i know i can do better. but i have not in the past because there was always the ease of facebook. it is in fact a crutch to genuine relationship. not quantity but quality. an example. recently someone sarah and i know and love became pregnant. instead of learning of it on facebook, we were graced with a call from the source herself. of course, if we were on facebook, we would’ve learned about it all the sooner but by eliminating the medium that stood between us, it made the learning of that knowledge and the experience of it that much more visceral. that much more poignant. that much more real.

Baby of the Family

Jack brought home his new puppy almost 2 weeks ago, and "Leroy" is definitely the first, favored grandchild.  He can't lift a paw without a chorus of "awwwww".  He'll be 8 weeks old in 2 days... we'll see how long the extraordinary cuteness lasts.

They love each other.

Will You Conspire?

I am adamantly opposed to Christmas trees, lights, and carols before Thanksgiving.

However, because many start discussing family strategems for the NEXT holiday while gathered for this one, I am conceding and sharing this video, because it's a powerful invitation to reconsider Advent/ Christmas/ the coming of Christ.  I know: it's not always fun to buck traditions.  But it might be right to buck some traditions.  Think about how much of commercial Christmas is designed to make you feel worse if you don't consume enough, buy enough, or spend enough.  Consider.  Conspire.



Disclaimer: I find it very difficult to run against the grain even in my own family, where holidays aren't extravagant... but the giving is still generous, and it feels like rather uncertain territory to take the focus off the THINGS that we want/ give/ receive. So I'm just saying, I found this video inspiring. It makes me want to keep trying. Keep seeking. Start seeing in Christmas the world-changing, light-bringing event that it is.

Changing Season

Yesterday I looked around, and the scene was suddenly bare and brown.  The glowing orange trees along the driveway, whose color I had savored with each early evening sunset, were done. 

At that moment, it seemed profoundly similar to my "sudden" switch as I begin to plan for life on the west coast, now aiming to move with the first of the year.  How can a transition be sudden when you've had your eyes tracking it for almost a year?  (Why is it a mild shock to see trees bared for winter?)  Yet, realities like health insurance and housing have a way of making it real!

So, the seasons change in that mysterious methodical way.  The sun slants differently.  Life shifts gears.