In the mood

I have been accused of disliking everything Christmas. I am reluctant to hang outdoor Christmas lights, to help trim the home, and to listen to well-worn songs of the season.

Christmas is a difficult time of the year for me. It is close to a new year, with the introspection that it brings. As I get older, I look into myself, and wince at lost opportunities. I ache over damaged relationships. I see out-of-control selfishness in me that dares to be checked. In this time of Advent, attempting to focus on the coming of the Christ child into my life, I feel like a hyperactive toddler peering into the manger for a second before something else distracts me.

I can get in a Christmas mood, but it isn't always a fun mood to be in.

Wonderings in afterlife

In the book “The Eyes of the Heart”, Frederick Buechner is having a conversation with his grandmother who died years before and is asking her about her experience of afterlife. The quote from Buechner quoting his grandmother is as follows.

"I have always assumed that when you died you would no longer see through a glass darkly but face to face as St. Paul quite inaccurately predicted. However such was not the case. On the contrary, it was like stepping out of a dark house into a greater dark of night."

She pauses for a moment, glancing up into the shadows as though they are the sky. One lens of her glasses catches the lamp's light.

"The moon' she says. "The Milky Way unwinding like a scarf, the constellations. All those fathoms upon fathoms of darkness. Who knows what other moons and stars there are further still. What deeper depths."

"You'd think it would quite take your breath away, if you had breath to take,"she says. "But it doesn't. It's almost as if it is your breath." She glances down at the pattern of cards on the table for a moment. "Or as if it's breathing you." "Eyes of the Heart" Frederick Buechner. p78.

If there was one thing that I crave as a person, it is a sense of wonder. It feels hardwired into me. A beautiful sunset, a newborn child, the vastness of the universe. I look for wonder. I long for it. I am moved by it, and sadly, when it stares me in the face, I don't know what to do with it. Most of what creates wonder in me is far beyond my grasp.

I've struggled with the visions of heaven that have been painted for me, how we would lay prostrate in rapturous delight, throwing our crowns before God, while declaring our unworthiness (well at least the 24 elders in Rev. 4:10).

I mean no sacrilege here. I understand in the puniest mortal way that I am completely insignificant in the presence of God. But it is HE who called me friend.

When I am told that I will spend my eternity throwing any crowns I have, falling on my face, and declaring my unworthiness, I wonder how that fits with what moves me now? In my own insignificant existence, wonder drives me. Wonder even drives my baser interests, which robs me of God given wonder. If wonder is something that I long for and feel I am created for, then it seems that a world of declaring my unworthiness and crown throwing, is stripped of wonder, unless, of course, God sends fresh waves of wonder through the prostrated peoples to keep up their motivation for self-abasement.

Does wonder then become how to best throw your crown to get closest to God’s feet (if he has feet)? How many skips can a crown make before it sinks to the bottom of the river that flows from the center of the city? Do we purchase crowns to throw from hawkers pushing vending carts down the golden streets? How do you throw a crown with any accuracy when you are in the prone position?

On the other hand what if heaven is a ramping up of what we know as wonder, heightening our senses, far beyond what we as mortals have been able to comprehend? What if when we move to the next level of existence, we find that we are not given the answers we were hoping to receive, but are given the capacity to see more mystery and wonder than we had any notion even existed?

What if heaven is more about wonder and less about answers? Wouldn't my discoveries drive me to worship wonder's creator even more?

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Lighting candles

Today is All-Saints day. It is a day for acknowledging loss. Those who have suffered the passing of loved ones during the year bring a candle to the front of the church to commemorate the loss.

Losing a loved one is painful There is a void where that person used to be. Losing a loved one can be more tangible than other types of loss.

How do we acknowledge the loss of less tangible things? How do we commemorate the loss of innocence, the loss of self confidence, the loss of safety, the loss of belief? How do we explain to others the loss we feel? How do we talk about something that we cannot touch or grasp?

Today on All Saints Day, I light a candle to acknowledge my loss of self confidence. I light a candle to acknowledge my loss of safety. I light a candle to acknowledge my loss of belief.

Do you see the candles I light? If you can’t maybe it’s because they are as illusory as the losses I feel.

Shining for a season

I looked out the window of our bedroom to see if the morning had brought snow. It had. There were a couple inches dusting the ground. Also out the front door of our neighbor's house their Christmas tree was laying on its side on the ground, also covered with snow. It was there awaiting removal. Christmas is past, its use over. It is now to be disposed of.

When the tree was decorated in their living room window, it was a sight of wonder. The lights blazed, encircling the branches. calling attention to the splendor of the season. There was no wonder now. Its beauty deserted. 

I thought of how my life is like that. There is a time when the world is a wonder, bathed in the bright lights of opportunity. While there is still light for me, it is dimming. My possibilities are waning. 

I think the temptation is to try to keep the lights bright and not be the tree tossed out in the front yard. And yet it is inevitable. Sooner or later the lights are pulled off and the wonder has waned. What it does make me aware of is not wasting the opportunities given to me. The season ends, the purpose is past, and transition to the next season is predestined.  That is the cycle of life.

After Christmas

It is cold. Bitingly cold. There is an elderly man facing a headwind as he moves down the street. Oddly enough he looks like Deniro's tough guy face.

I get to the grocery store. there is a bad trumpet player out of rhythm with a Salvation Army bell ringer. Both are bundled against the wind, but smiling. As I check out at the cash register, a high school band plays Christmas carols for the enjoyment of the shoppers.

Merriment in the cold. A lighter spirit at Christmas time. Joy is spread like a carpet, keeping the cold from winning. It is a grand buildup to a single day and then it's over. 

CS Lewis in his book "The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe" talked about the curse on the land as being always winter, but never Christmas. But to me that begs the question, how long does the joy stay around after that grand day ends. What happens then?

Moving into January the days are dark and cold. They are to be endured. The trumpets, the bells, the impromptu  caroling evaporate, and what is left is the hope that if we hold out long enough, Spring will arrive and life begins anew.

When you can't edit

I experienced one of the dangers of making comments on the internet. Once you click "accept" you give up your right to edit.

I visited a friend's caringbridge site. In my comment on the guest-book I included the word "here" instead of "hear". I clicked the "accept" button without seeing the error, and waived my right to retraction in perpetuity.

It bugged me for a minute, but I had to let it go. I couldn't change it. I had to accept that for me, being viewed as a fool was conditional. There are things I am willing to be thought a fool for.  It doesn't include my spelling ability.

Missing just one thing

I have been reading a book called "Infidel" by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. In one of the chapters she talked about how the clerics kept people in line by placing the fear of going to hell in them. It was amazingly similar to some of my experiences in the evangelical church.

I have known people who are consumed with passionately making sure that people are "saved" from hell. They make a big show of being concerned about the eternal welfare of others. Their lives are devoted to it.

A definition of Hell that I agree with is "anyplace" that is seperated from God, or devoid of God, and consequently devoid of love.

It has been my observation that those who people I described above are ones that are living in hell. They torture themselves and others. They don't appear loving. They are motivated by fear. They feel fear and they pass it on to others.  You can smell it in them and you can see it in the faces of others around them. Love is not in them.

There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.

Challenges and more challenges

Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

Here is the short blog. 

There a lot of things that happened this weekend that we didn't predict. I can spend time worrying about life, but it is the unpredicted events that can throw us off kilter. It may be a blessing that we don't see these things coming, because I think we would be much more tempted to check out on life. The admonition to not worry about the future makes sense, because it keeps us from getting paralyzed today, instead of celebrating it.

The long blog if you care to read it.

We were going up to watch our son run in Grandma's marathon. I was going to drop my wife off and pick her up at work on our way out of town. She ends up at a different location where she needs her car. She also doesn't feel well. One of my other sons who is joining us, isn't getting off work until "sometime between 4 and 5PM". I take the dog out in the early afternoon and her stool is an odd color, and she is throwing up the water she has just ingested. I am concerned and take a stool sample to our vet. The vet clinic said there were no parasites, but the color of the stool is concerning and that the dog should be checked out because it could be life threatening. They say I can't bring her in to the vet because it so close to the end of their day. I need to bring the dog in to the Emergency vet ho$pital. The dog continues to produce scary looking stools but presents with happy-go-lucky dogface.

Deep breath!

My wife is feeling better we decide to go for it. We reserved a room in Moose Lake that night. We get a call asking if we could bring my son's fiancé's sister up. We say yes, as long as the dog's exam isn't serious. My wife gets home, we pack up the car, drive down, pick up my son, head to the vet clinic where we are told that the dog looks okay, but keep an eye on her. We call fiancé's sister to say we are heading north so we have a seat in our car if she still wants it. She does. The phone rings. My wife's mother has taken a bad fall and is at the hospital. We put together contingencies, but my wife's sister was in town and is graciously willing to stay at the hospital. We were still heading north.We meet in a Cub parking lot and fiancé's sister gets in. The good thing is because it is so late in the afternoon the out-of-town traffic was pretty light. Delivered fiancé's sister where she needs to be and head back to hotel. All goes well checking in. Dog produced another icky stool but seems perky and energetic.

Deep breath!

The next day starts pretty normally. The dog seems to have new life and is ready for life's adventures de-jour. Sis-in-law calls to say there is no surgery scheduled for my mother-in-law.  We find our party at mile marker 19 of Grandma's marathon. Traffic is lighter than expected. We watch a person go by and cheer for him, before realizing that that was not our son! Oops! Our son bounds by shortly after. We make no mistake this time. The dog hasn't eaten anything for 20 hours and is wanting to explore and challenge everything. The end of the marathon, my son did an outstanding 3:59:11 minutes on the marathon. We all celebrate, my son limps around. We go out to eat. Call comes in that mother-in-law is still not in surgery and she hasn't eaten all day. We head back home with the idea of dropping my wife off at her parent's home and she borrow a car. I drop her off, drop my son off, go to the vet hospital where I am told the dog looks like she is doing okay. Dog and I head home.

Cleansing breath!

At the end of the weekend it was good. We were able to affirm our love for our son by being spectators for a challenging task of his. There were challenges to overcome, and we overcame them and had a good weekend. I think knowing what would have to take place we might have been sorely tempted to just stay home... but I'm glad we didn't.

Freed from greed

Apple just announced the next generation of iPhone. With all the new features, I found myself in full blown lust mode. I WANTED IT. I NEEDED IT. I found myself teetering on the irrational side trying to find a way to get it.

And then I stopped. I am working on being content with where I am and what I have. Rob Bell, in his book "Sex God" says that freedom is living without all the things you want and being content with that. I agree with that statement. I am free when I am not driven by the greed of possession.

When I was in the throws of lust, the promise was that this item would make my life complete. If I put it in that way, I see the absurdity of that statement. OF COURSE THE IPHONE WILL NOT COMPLETE ME!  ( sorry for going all Jerry McGuire on you) If an iPhone is all it takes to complete me, then what does that say about my worth as an human being or a spiritual being?

I will be content in my nice and functional cell phone and accept that I am loved by God and in that I will be content...and free.

Replacing

Tick, tick, tick comes the rhythmic song of my walking shoes on the path. There is something loose and it makes a ticking or popping noise everytime the shoe flexes.

I don't hear it when my iPod is on, but in the silence the refrain comes through loud and clear.

I am heading to Mexico in a few weeks and my goal was to use them there. Instantly I thought, I must replace them.  My second thought was "why"? Why do I need new shoes. Just because there is a little flaw in the shoe, does that mean that I need a new pair?

I have been socialized to believe that if something doesn't work perfectly, it should be replaced.

... Why?

Paying for beauty

I went backpacking last weekend. We started after a deluge flooded the area we were walking in. The rivers were overflowing their banks, making lakes across the path and in some places, washing the path away. The power of water and the residue of the massive rainfall was spectacular. Little creeks were now raging rivers. The roar of the water was breathtaking. It created obstacles, but the overall effect was a fierce form of beauty.

The bugs were worse than I EVER have experienced before. They flew around my face, bounced between my face and my glasses, flying into my eyes. And then there were the bites. They were relentless. You couldn't stand still. My son built a fire and the choice as stand away from the smoke and be ravaged by the bugs, or stand in the smoke and tear up.

I started thinking about beauty and pain. There is a price exacted for viewing beauty, like an admission fee. Maybe the more we are willing to pay, the more beauty we are permitted to see. Remembering my friend, Nancy, her beauty radiated in proportion to the direness of her condition. I was able to see more of her beauty as I was willing to enter into the sadness of her loss.

Now a week and a half later I struggle to refrain from scratching my bites, I think back on the beauty I saw. Was it worth it? I think it was. I wouldn't have seen the beauty if it wasn't for the obstacles.

I see real beauty when I am willing to experience the pain that goes along with it.

Fragile

It is always sad to walk after a big storm. After the hail several weeks ago in my walk I was amazed and saddened by all the dead animals. Baby birds lie on the ground discarded from the nest. Small rodents sprawled along the path lying where they were hit by hail.

I am so fragile, but I don't feel it. I feel in control of myself. All the biological and psychological systems are working adequately and I am able to function reasonably well. I move through life with the confident belief that I am indestructible. 

Little bird carcasses remind me of forces that could tear me apart. It can come into my life from out of the blue, like hail.

Remembered!

 "Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for a child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you! See, I have written your name on my hand. (Isaiah 49:15-16)

It is comforting to know that I am not forgotten, that God has written my name on his hand. For all the people in the world that God has not forgotten, he must have REALLY big hands!

Message from an earthworm

In my "everything is beautiful" mood I have found myself bending down (a movement that is getting harder as I get older) to pick up earthworms off the asphalt and toss them back into the dirt where they accomplish their job of turning earth. Truth be told, I play favorites. I don't do that for slugs. It is sad to see how many worms die on the asphalt when the moisture evaporates.

I found a rather large earthworm about halfway across the walking path. I bent over to pick it up. It twisted and writhed to escape my grasp. I made a few more attempts and then gave up. Who am I to deny a creature it's own destruction when it seems so bent on it.

The worm made me reflect on my own life and my own willingness to seek self destructive behaviors. I look at my eating patterns and see  my bent towards destruction. I look at my unwillingness to get adequate exercise and how it has hurt me. Like the worm I have twisted and writhed getting out of activities that could help me.

Hopefully I am changing, and unlike the earthworm, I am attempting to submit to forces that can move me out of destructive paths. 

Hearing God's voice

As I was walking and meditating on an encounter with someone with whom I have struggled, I believe I heard God say that it was time to seek healing. The rest of the walk was setting up a plan for achieving that healing.

I told my wife about the voice and my plan to enact healing. My wife promptly stated that she didn't think it was a good idea. With her words I became confused because I was sure I had heard God speak to me. I was frustrated by her response. We e-mailed back and forth and I told her that I wouldn't be a spiritual bully, and she told me that if God was speaking, she wouldn't stand in the way. 

I felt even more confused. How can God say contradictory information to different people? I decided to not act until I got more information. For a number of days, I didn't hear any voice telling me what to do. I became a little frustrated with God for his silence.

On my walk later on that week I told God so. I told him I thought it was unfair to tell people different things and create conflict where there didn't have to be any. There was silence for a while and then God, in a vision, took me to a room. In this room the person I was struggling with was on his face before God, as was I. God bent over the other person and said to him, "Stand, my child. Come with me"

Outraged, I stood and shouted "Aren't you aware of how this man has hurt me? You are going to usher this person in to your presence, knowing the pain that he has caused?!"

God gently turned his eyes to me. In a quiet voice he whispered "Are you unaware of how YOU have hurt me? What is this to you? I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion! You worry about your relationship with me, and I will worry about my relationship with you and the billions of others who are in relationship with me. Your words don't sound generous at all."

I started out the week looking for an avenue of healing another and my ability to be an instrument of that healing. God showed me that I was not ready for invoking healing on another, because I was listening with a self serving ear and not with the ears of God.

Speak and your servant will attempt to listen better. Thank you God for those around me that help define your voice more clearly than I am capable of hearing on my own.

An uncomfortable observation

I was taking my daughter up to a volleyball tournament. She had friends in the back seat with her. 

My car has a moonroof skylight that has shades that cover them when the sun is too hot. One of the girls started playing with it. My daughter said, "Don't play with that. If it snaps open my dad will get angry."

Later in the trip one of the girls didn't cap her drink. My daughter once again said "Put the cap on, if it spills, my dad will get mad."

As I listened, I became uncomfortable seeing myself through my daughter's eyes. I felt sad that she saw me as a person who uses anger to get his way.

I really don't like to think of myself that way, but my daughter's perception is her perception. That is how she sees me. I need to accept it and if I don't like it, find a way to change it.

Our luxury

My wife and I go to bagels on Sunday morning. It has become a ritual for us. Normally I get an omlet and cheese bagel. As I have increased my calorie consciousness I have started checking out the different calorie counts at places I frequent. 

I discovered that the bagel sandwich I normally ordered had close to 500 calories which takes a chunk out a 1500 calorie day. I thought about what I wanted to do about it. Do I just eat it and take the hit? Do I not eat anything there?

I decided to eat half of the bagel and throw the other half away. When I did throw it away, it felt so excessively American. I felt bad. I have the freedom of choice as to what I will do with excess food. Better for my diet. It doesn't help the starving. 

The trouble with food choices is that our portion sizes are SO out of whack! We want the best value for our meal, which translates into bigger portions. We aren't too concerned about calories. We feel ripped off if we get smaller portions. 

What is hard to consider is that some in the world are just hoping to be able to afford enough food to survive another day.

Throwing out the half a bagel or eating it wouldn't have changed the plight of the starving. But the tragedy is that the food I threw out could have fed a starving child, and that is haunting me! And sometimes it's good to be haunted if it leads to greater awareness and change.

Political Fast

In the past year the candidates have been vying for position  become the next president. I have stated in the past that I think that it is the best reality show out there. I find politics fascinating, every word parsed, every accusation thrown like malignant seed.

I am coming to a new reality. I believe I am focused on minutia that has no relevance to my life as I am living it right now. As a result of this thinking, I made a commitment to put myself on a fast, a political fast. I am committed to getting my news from sources I read, and not from the talking heads.

Since I started this fast about two weeks ago, my perspectives have shifted into more realistic ways. I still feel I get the main issues of the campaign, I just don't get them over, and over again. When I get to the end of the day I feel I've been more productive and I don't feel I wasted time. I have to say that I am better off, as well, without the calories that came with snacking in front of the TV.

What I believe is that whether I am consuming every word of the chatter out there, there will be a president voted in, after all is said and done...well, mainly said.

What I leave behind

As I move further into new perspectives, I can look back and see casualties from my faulty thinking. It hasn't just impacted me. I look at people who adopted some of my ideas and taken them further. 

I can change my thinking, but my actions have repercussions not only me, but others as well. While I may change, they may be caught in the thinking I am leaving behind and may be unwilling to change.

As a parent there have been times where I have been furious with the behavior of a child of mine, only to realize that they have been imitating me. It can be sobering for me to have to realize that the things that may be frustrating me from people in my life, may have been influenced by me.

Seeing with new eyes

This last week I have had an increasing sense of clarity in my thinking about my life, my spirituality, and the life around me. What is amazing to me is that while parts of the landscape looks pretty familiar, it has taken on a different appearance, as if there was a change in lighting, a change in vantage point. And the question that comes with this new thinking is, where have I been? Why am I seeing this now? It has been here all along, and yet it is like I am seeing this for the first time! There are ah ha moments, spikes of understanding, and the almost grasping, but just out of reach.

I guess I have been on a journey that didn't pull back the cover on this part of the walk of faith. I was busy learning how to be less selfish as a parent and giving to others. Not perfect, but growing. Now that many of the kids are gone, the activity is less and has given me more opportunity to think about where I have been and where I am going.

For years I have had a hazy idea of what I didn't think was working in my life. There were times I attended church simply because my children needed an example, even though in my heart, I didn't know if I could call myself a "christian" any more. I didn't want to rock their world until I could define the direction I was taking.

I no longer label myself a "christian". I want to be a follower of Jesus and I am working to realize that more in my life each day. It is a slow process, and I falter, but I am okay with not having all the details filled in yet. The mist has momentarily lifted and I see the next segment of the path. Through the fog, I can see new landmarks, new peaks to head towards.

I am becoming increasingly comfortable with the process of growth. It isn't that I am not uncomfortable in the growth process. I am.  It is hard to grow sometimes. It just doesn't scare me the way it used to.