lgbc will gather at 1507 grantbrook this saturday evening. Snacks out at 5:30--Bring some to share if you'd like. Dancing-singing-shouting worship (Read a little loud and a lot kid-friendly) at 5:45. Worship continues (possibly calmer and quieter) at 6:00 p.m. After worship, at least some of us will head out to GirlShow which begins at 8:00 (Kelly Nygren performing on Saturday evening--along with many many other female artists. In fact, on Friday night of GirlShow, our own Cynthia Miller is one of the featured photographers! (We'll be there on Friday night too--Let us know if you'd like to meet up to go together.
See http://www.artlovemagic.com/ for more details on GirlShow.
Looking ahead: August 7th, we'll do a pot-luck dinner and catch up on stuff: For example: reports from those who've been distributors of Mercy Funds for the past year and decisions about where to go next with that experiment in corporate stewardship. Also, finalizing finally the monthly giving to Heartline ministries in Haiti. And you never know what else will come up--Pray and seek God's word for our community in decision-making. It's not just a business meeting--there will be food! And more importantly, some great stories of God at work.
The next part of this e-mail is confessional. I feel like I need to put it out there for the whole postcard readership but feel free to stop reading if it's just too much information for you!
Over the past few weeks, I have been spending more time seeking out the Holy Spirit and His purposes for us as a community. Here is the biggest thing I have been struck by: We exist to worship God. That's why we're gathering together as one little chunk of the Body. Paul and I had some great worship times during our car trips. Those hours have changed some of our daily patterns already. I was very convicted by the sudden realization of one way our community life has changed: When I used to plan/lead worship at lgbc, when someone else was doing the teaching, I would spend at least 3 or 4 hours during the week just worshiping and seeking prayerfully choosing each song, scripture, and reading. Eventually, leading worship became a responsibility (?) that was passed around. Often we figure out who's doing it the day of the service, and I know that if it falls to us, Paul usually rapidly picks some songs while I finish cleaning the living room. Wow--that's a pretty big change, but it happened by tiny degrees. So--I feel that I am being called to plan/lead worship on Saturday evenings again. I am unspeakably excited about the opportunity. So--if you are interested in playing an instrument and/or whatever else, send me an e-mail. I will plan to e-mail at least a song list to you by Friday each week--hopefully sooner in the future. At any rate, we do want to apologize to you as part of our community for letting this foundation get so shaky. God's mercy--that's all we've got.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Father and An Excellent Day
Father
So I picked up the Madame Guyon classic, “Experiencing the depths of Jesus Christ” in a used bookstore in some little town in West Virginia. I had read about her, but had not read her own writing. Already I can tell she is going to be an important teacher for me. I'll probably want to write more about her later, but this is my first aha moment.
Particularly for those who cannot read, she says, “Begin with the word, 'Father.' As you do, let the full meaning of that word deeply touch your heart.” Attempting this, I realized—as I have less consciously many times before-- that the word 'father' does not actually have much meaning for me. I've never used the word father in reference to my own dad or anyone else's who I know personally. I never say, “He's a good father”--I say “He's a good dad/parent/daddy.” For me, father is a formal and distant word, and –oddly, I know,--very British.
I have always felt enormously blessed in my comfort with God as dad because my own daddy is truly one of the most godly people I've ever known and his love for me has always been undeniable, deep and wide.
Interesting, then, to find that I stumble on the word father. So . . .
“Begin with the word, 'Daddy.' As you do, let the full meaning of that word deeply touch your heart.” Oh. I get it. Or at least I begin to.
Exceptional Day
I kind of struggled against vacation this year. It seemed so unreasonable to pay a sub to teach my summer classes, to spend precious hours shopping to fully stock our house before leaving town, to prepare to be away from our church for two Saturdays, to trust that our household would function without us for an extended period of time. But the thought of me in Dallas while Paul and Bri were in Virginia for over a week pushed me over the edge, and I agreed to go after all.
Since Bri was off to hang with Paul's mom and then meet us near Virginia, Paul and I had a long road trip together. More time than we have spent just the two of us in ages. I finally got into the vacation mode and planned out where we would spend each night on the way to Virginia. Paul discovered that the place where we would spend Friday night, Charleston, West Virginia, was actually having its annual Festivall while we were there. I delightedly checked the schedule and planned accordingly.
Thus, we pulled out of Jackson on Friday morning to begin a fantastic day. Having mostly run through our audiobooks on day 1, we ended up talking about worship and worshiping together for a big chunk of the drive. We found cheap or free refills on drinks throughout the drive and enjoyed our peanut butter sandwiches in the car. Lovely, lovely. We pulled into Charleston, a town we had loved when driving through once, checked in and headed immediately to the Sing-Along-Sound of Music! We ended up parking across the river from downtown and walking over the bridge looking at water taxis while jazz wafted up to us. We made our way to the theater just on time and got our goody bags: a bell, a plastic sprig of eidelweiss, a square of curtain fabric, a glow stick, and a popper (for the first time Maria and the Captain kiss). Then we got our instructions about cheering for Maria, barking at Rolff, hissing at the Baroness (although one contingent at the front followed every hiss with “It's not her fault!”) saying aawww at Gretel's cuteness, and yelling, “Liar!” whenever someone tells a fib. Amazing how well I know the lyrics to all those songs. Fun to sing them badly with a theater full of other fans. Hilarious to hear comments: Our favorite audience comment was when Maria was comforting the heart-broken Leisl--”You'll see, you'll fall in love again one day and everything will be wonderful--” Huge audience roar: LIAR! Followed by rolls of laughter. So much fun. Then we walked back across the bridge in the moonlight and drove to our perfectly acceptable little hotel room.
The next morning, we headed to downtown and meandered through the art fair. Blocks and blocks of tents sheltering a wide array of artists. Cool kids' area where we missed Brianna greatly. But someone let Paul make a whirlygig for her and someone else gave us the kit for weaving her own coinpurse. Not actually being kids, we didn't push to do the marbling or clay or tambourines or hats. Didn't even see all of the kid options. It was fun to see all the different art, talk with a few artists, and overhear the conversations between locals: 'I didn't know you wrote—Is this your first book?' and 'I haven't tried your idea yet about painting vegetables—maybe this summer.' We also found an excellent bookstore along the way—In addition to a wide enough assortment of interesting books to make us wish we had hundreds of dollars to spend on books for everyone we know, there was a coffee shop, an art gallery, and a clay studio. Check that off on our list of things that make a city a perfect place to live. We had an amazing local pizza for lunch and headed on through beautiful mountain roads. Really just one of my favorite days ever. Not to mention the sheer joy of spending that much one-on-one time with the love of my life. Sweet.
So I picked up the Madame Guyon classic, “Experiencing the depths of Jesus Christ” in a used bookstore in some little town in West Virginia. I had read about her, but had not read her own writing. Already I can tell she is going to be an important teacher for me. I'll probably want to write more about her later, but this is my first aha moment.
Particularly for those who cannot read, she says, “Begin with the word, 'Father.' As you do, let the full meaning of that word deeply touch your heart.” Attempting this, I realized—as I have less consciously many times before-- that the word 'father' does not actually have much meaning for me. I've never used the word father in reference to my own dad or anyone else's who I know personally. I never say, “He's a good father”--I say “He's a good dad/parent/daddy.” For me, father is a formal and distant word, and –oddly, I know,--very British.
I have always felt enormously blessed in my comfort with God as dad because my own daddy is truly one of the most godly people I've ever known and his love for me has always been undeniable, deep and wide.
Interesting, then, to find that I stumble on the word father. So . . .
“Begin with the word, 'Daddy.' As you do, let the full meaning of that word deeply touch your heart.” Oh. I get it. Or at least I begin to.
Exceptional Day
I kind of struggled against vacation this year. It seemed so unreasonable to pay a sub to teach my summer classes, to spend precious hours shopping to fully stock our house before leaving town, to prepare to be away from our church for two Saturdays, to trust that our household would function without us for an extended period of time. But the thought of me in Dallas while Paul and Bri were in Virginia for over a week pushed me over the edge, and I agreed to go after all.
Since Bri was off to hang with Paul's mom and then meet us near Virginia, Paul and I had a long road trip together. More time than we have spent just the two of us in ages. I finally got into the vacation mode and planned out where we would spend each night on the way to Virginia. Paul discovered that the place where we would spend Friday night, Charleston, West Virginia, was actually having its annual Festivall while we were there. I delightedly checked the schedule and planned accordingly.
Thus, we pulled out of Jackson on Friday morning to begin a fantastic day. Having mostly run through our audiobooks on day 1, we ended up talking about worship and worshiping together for a big chunk of the drive. We found cheap or free refills on drinks throughout the drive and enjoyed our peanut butter sandwiches in the car. Lovely, lovely. We pulled into Charleston, a town we had loved when driving through once, checked in and headed immediately to the Sing-Along-Sound of Music! We ended up parking across the river from downtown and walking over the bridge looking at water taxis while jazz wafted up to us. We made our way to the theater just on time and got our goody bags: a bell, a plastic sprig of eidelweiss, a square of curtain fabric, a glow stick, and a popper (for the first time Maria and the Captain kiss). Then we got our instructions about cheering for Maria, barking at Rolff, hissing at the Baroness (although one contingent at the front followed every hiss with “It's not her fault!”) saying aawww at Gretel's cuteness, and yelling, “Liar!” whenever someone tells a fib. Amazing how well I know the lyrics to all those songs. Fun to sing them badly with a theater full of other fans. Hilarious to hear comments: Our favorite audience comment was when Maria was comforting the heart-broken Leisl--”You'll see, you'll fall in love again one day and everything will be wonderful--” Huge audience roar: LIAR! Followed by rolls of laughter. So much fun. Then we walked back across the bridge in the moonlight and drove to our perfectly acceptable little hotel room.
The next morning, we headed to downtown and meandered through the art fair. Blocks and blocks of tents sheltering a wide array of artists. Cool kids' area where we missed Brianna greatly. But someone let Paul make a whirlygig for her and someone else gave us the kit for weaving her own coinpurse. Not actually being kids, we didn't push to do the marbling or clay or tambourines or hats. Didn't even see all of the kid options. It was fun to see all the different art, talk with a few artists, and overhear the conversations between locals: 'I didn't know you wrote—Is this your first book?' and 'I haven't tried your idea yet about painting vegetables—maybe this summer.' We also found an excellent bookstore along the way—In addition to a wide enough assortment of interesting books to make us wish we had hundreds of dollars to spend on books for everyone we know, there was a coffee shop, an art gallery, and a clay studio. Check that off on our list of things that make a city a perfect place to live. We had an amazing local pizza for lunch and headed on through beautiful mountain roads. Really just one of my favorite days ever. Not to mention the sheer joy of spending that much one-on-one time with the love of my life. Sweet.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
On Spiritual Gifts “Tests”
As we have been thinking and talking more about living in the power of the Holy Spirit, of course, the subject of spiritual gifts has come up. Looking back at some of our notes from year's ago, I am amazed by how easily we had skipped gifts of tongues and healing. :) While we feel confident now that there is no single set list of the gifts of the Spirit, I think the questionnaire-type evaluation can be helpful in some situations. Besides, I love filling out questionnaires. So I found one that had a very broad list and looked at it. I haven't actually completed it or submitted it, but I feel like I learned a lot through the process of answering the questions.
1.After 13 ½ years of marriage, it is sometimes hard to tell where Paul's gifts end and mine begin. There was one statement that I started to give myself a fairly high mark in until I realized with a start that our “ability” in that area is really Paul's. As for me alone, I had to score a zero. This discovery was actually not terribly disturbing since I am not me alone. Also, it rather confirms our idea that a marriage is like a micro-church. Since gifts are given for the eqquipping of the Body, it makes sense that we would individually bring to our marriage gifts that equip our joint ministry. Interesting.
2.Also, I recognized as I read various statements that my answer/score would be very different if the statement said , “I do....” instead of “I can ...” Hmmmm.
3.As I finally noted my own hesitance and second-guessing, I realized that I was still answering the quiz from a place of brokenness rather than health. I thought I had become a lot healthier spiritually over the past month, and I still think that's true. It was just a little disarming to realize that there is still so much brokenness that affects me and my thoughts so much. Interesting again. So, I'm not quite sure whether I'm supposed to beg for complete healing and get on with it having put the injuries behind me or whether the truth is that I have to speak from who I am now, carrying that injury rather than pretending I can have the same responses I would have a few years ago. Are the injured responses the ones that God could most effectively use now? Is the answer somewhere in between? Regardless, I feel grateful for the realization that I am not yet “all better”—I hate to walk around not knowing that I'm bleeding.
1.After 13 ½ years of marriage, it is sometimes hard to tell where Paul's gifts end and mine begin. There was one statement that I started to give myself a fairly high mark in until I realized with a start that our “ability” in that area is really Paul's. As for me alone, I had to score a zero. This discovery was actually not terribly disturbing since I am not me alone. Also, it rather confirms our idea that a marriage is like a micro-church. Since gifts are given for the eqquipping of the Body, it makes sense that we would individually bring to our marriage gifts that equip our joint ministry. Interesting.
2.Also, I recognized as I read various statements that my answer/score would be very different if the statement said , “I do....” instead of “I can ...” Hmmmm.
3.As I finally noted my own hesitance and second-guessing, I realized that I was still answering the quiz from a place of brokenness rather than health. I thought I had become a lot healthier spiritually over the past month, and I still think that's true. It was just a little disarming to realize that there is still so much brokenness that affects me and my thoughts so much. Interesting again. So, I'm not quite sure whether I'm supposed to beg for complete healing and get on with it having put the injuries behind me or whether the truth is that I have to speak from who I am now, carrying that injury rather than pretending I can have the same responses I would have a few years ago. Are the injured responses the ones that God could most effectively use now? Is the answer somewhere in between? Regardless, I feel grateful for the realization that I am not yet “all better”—I hate to walk around not knowing that I'm bleeding.
Friday, June 18, 2010
plants
"if thou of fortune be bereft,
and in thy store there be but left
two loaves, sell one, and with the dole
buy hyacinths to feed thy soul."
I think that was probably the first poem I memorized as a child. I don't remember ever not knowing it. Perhaps that explains a lot.
So a few weeks ago, Paul had to stop at Lowe's to get some house repair stuff. as usual in such stores, I said, "Come find me in the garden area when you're done." As I walked into the garden area, I saw about ten big shelves with a sign that said, "Clearance--All you can pile into a shopping cart for $10." And I spied some petunias, which I had meant to buy this year because they're supposed to help your tomatoes, and some lantana, which is one of my favorites because I remember the flowers that are themselves tiny bouquets from my grandmother's yard. So I pretty much had to go and get a cart. Interestingly, the task of filling the cart brought out two definite parts of my character. The first is the tender-hearted lover of all things living. I just kept thinking, "They're probably going to throw these out tomorrow if they don't sell. I can't stand for them to just be thrown out to die--poor babies." And then this challenge somehow brought out my competitiveness, which I sometimes tell myself does not exist. :) I was going to get the maximum number of plants that I possibly could for that ten bucks. I was going to surprise them with how many plants they would have to give me for my money. Of course, these two characteristics wrestle back and forth because the competitive cheapskate wants to just pile as many plants in the basket as possible, but the life-cherisherer wants to make sure that no single plant suffers any more crushing or damage of any kind. Yes--it took a long time to fill my basket. And of course, the very sad thing is this: Since summer has hit Dallas, I can only physically stand to be outside before 8:30 a.m. Now my summer classes have begun, so I leave the house at 6:30 a.m. Monday thru Friday. So some of the precious plantlings that I saved from death by commercial garbage bin are now slowly dying of thirst and lack of root space while I try to make room for them in the few tiny spots of decent dirt we have.
But . . . I did fit sixty-something plants in that shopping cart.
and in thy store there be but left
two loaves, sell one, and with the dole
buy hyacinths to feed thy soul."
I think that was probably the first poem I memorized as a child. I don't remember ever not knowing it. Perhaps that explains a lot.
So a few weeks ago, Paul had to stop at Lowe's to get some house repair stuff. as usual in such stores, I said, "Come find me in the garden area when you're done." As I walked into the garden area, I saw about ten big shelves with a sign that said, "Clearance--All you can pile into a shopping cart for $10." And I spied some petunias, which I had meant to buy this year because they're supposed to help your tomatoes, and some lantana, which is one of my favorites because I remember the flowers that are themselves tiny bouquets from my grandmother's yard. So I pretty much had to go and get a cart. Interestingly, the task of filling the cart brought out two definite parts of my character. The first is the tender-hearted lover of all things living. I just kept thinking, "They're probably going to throw these out tomorrow if they don't sell. I can't stand for them to just be thrown out to die--poor babies." And then this challenge somehow brought out my competitiveness, which I sometimes tell myself does not exist. :) I was going to get the maximum number of plants that I possibly could for that ten bucks. I was going to surprise them with how many plants they would have to give me for my money. Of course, these two characteristics wrestle back and forth because the competitive cheapskate wants to just pile as many plants in the basket as possible, but the life-cherisherer wants to make sure that no single plant suffers any more crushing or damage of any kind. Yes--it took a long time to fill my basket. And of course, the very sad thing is this: Since summer has hit Dallas, I can only physically stand to be outside before 8:30 a.m. Now my summer classes have begun, so I leave the house at 6:30 a.m. Monday thru Friday. So some of the precious plantlings that I saved from death by commercial garbage bin are now slowly dying of thirst and lack of root space while I try to make room for them in the few tiny spots of decent dirt we have.
But . . . I did fit sixty-something plants in that shopping cart.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
reasons #5744 and #5745 that my daughter rocks
5744. Last week, Brianna came in wearing a new-ish skort and said, "Mom--I think since it's getting hot, we should set some limits about the length of my shorts and skorts for the summer. I know that while we're at co-op, the rule is down to the fingertips, but when we're not at co-op, it seems like this length is still appropriate--a couple of inches above fingertip length. Does that seem alright to you?" Me: "I think that is a very appropriate length, and I trust your judgment. You know, I just don't want to see you in short shorts like X wears." Brie: "Oh, mom...there's no way I could ever be comfortable wearing anything like that!"
5745. Also last week, one of our current housemates Rashad had just gotten new dreads. He was sure he'd be able to bribe Brianna to spend time doing the monotonous rolling back and forth that is required to get them started well. So he began, "Hey, Brianna, wanna earn some candy money?"
She pauses from reading and looks up at him: "Why would I want candy money?"
Rashad: Don't you like candy? Wouldn't you like to have money to buy more?
Brie says, "Well, I don't really eat that much candy."
Rashad: Okaay, but there has to be something you'd like to have money for --you're a kid. What's your vice?
Brie: Really, I have plenty of money.
Rashad (turning tome across the room): C'mon, Julie--help me out here. What does she really like?
So Brianna pipes up, "Oh, I really like books. I read several books a day. Books are great."
So rashad says, 'Ah--there we go--wouldn't you like to earn some money to buy more books?'
Brianna: "Why? There really aren't very many books I need to own. Could you take me to the library a few times a week?"
Rashad: Well, no--I don't have a car. There has to be something.
I finally gave in and said, "There are 2 things that motivate Brianna externally--ice cream and old episodes of MacGuyver."
Brianna says, "Oh yeah--those'll work."
Rashad starts in with "oh, I can download you whole seasons of whatever show on my computer."
Brianna says, "There are already about 50 episodes I haven't watched that are available free on-line. Mom just doesn't like for me to sit and watch a lot at one time."
I chime in, "Yeah--no matter what you download--I'm still the mom and I decide how much time she spends on the computer. And I also decide when she gets to have ice cream. I think you're going to be rolling your own dreads."
Rashad sighs and I think: "Yes--I have a daughter who is unbribe-able--except by me!"
5745. Also last week, one of our current housemates Rashad had just gotten new dreads. He was sure he'd be able to bribe Brianna to spend time doing the monotonous rolling back and forth that is required to get them started well. So he began, "Hey, Brianna, wanna earn some candy money?"
She pauses from reading and looks up at him: "Why would I want candy money?"
Rashad: Don't you like candy? Wouldn't you like to have money to buy more?
Brie says, "Well, I don't really eat that much candy."
Rashad: Okaay, but there has to be something you'd like to have money for --you're a kid. What's your vice?
Brie: Really, I have plenty of money.
Rashad (turning tome across the room): C'mon, Julie--help me out here. What does she really like?
So Brianna pipes up, "Oh, I really like books. I read several books a day. Books are great."
So rashad says, 'Ah--there we go--wouldn't you like to earn some money to buy more books?'
Brianna: "Why? There really aren't very many books I need to own. Could you take me to the library a few times a week?"
Rashad: Well, no--I don't have a car. There has to be something.
I finally gave in and said, "There are 2 things that motivate Brianna externally--ice cream and old episodes of MacGuyver."
Brianna says, "Oh yeah--those'll work."
Rashad starts in with "oh, I can download you whole seasons of whatever show on my computer."
Brianna says, "There are already about 50 episodes I haven't watched that are available free on-line. Mom just doesn't like for me to sit and watch a lot at one time."
I chime in, "Yeah--no matter what you download--I'm still the mom and I decide how much time she spends on the computer. And I also decide when she gets to have ice cream. I think you're going to be rolling your own dreads."
Rashad sighs and I think: "Yes--I have a daughter who is unbribe-able--except by me!"
I know, I know, the blog has been silent
I am struggling with a season of severe fatigue. Making it through teaching at el centro and some kidcare and homeschool but unable to stay awake more than half of most days. Many blog entries in my head but not enough arm strength/awake time to post them. Going to try for a couple today though.
Animal updates--'cause that's what you're really holding your breath about. Tiny injured kitten Max is very healthy and scampering all over the house. He has managed to charm everyone except the female cats, who don't take to newcomers well. Thought he might bring out their maternal side, but no. And, the sweet chihuahua is no longer with us--She was claimed by her owner. Joyful reunion for them, cloud of sadness for our house. Anybody have a puppy looking for a home?
Animal updates--'cause that's what you're really holding your breath about. Tiny injured kitten Max is very healthy and scampering all over the house. He has managed to charm everyone except the female cats, who don't take to newcomers well. Thought he might bring out their maternal side, but no. And, the sweet chihuahua is no longer with us--She was claimed by her owner. Joyful reunion for them, cloud of sadness for our house. Anybody have a puppy looking for a home?
Sunday, April 25, 2010
One more four-leg
Yea--Some day I'm going to write a blog entry that does not involve the addition of a member to our household. The newest addition is a tiny black kitten with some white markings. We figure it's probably about 5 weeks old. It showed up in our friend Gary's yard with a very hurt foot. We hope to make it to the vet tomorrow, but brie has it eating pretty well--formula form an eyedropper mostly and it lies very close to Brie or me as much of the time as it can.
Two of our three young men that live here start training for census jobs on Tuesday, so that will adjust schedules here a bit. I am gearing up for the last few weeks of this semester with my ESOL classes at El Centro. This time of the semester I am often as nervous as they are to see how they do on final exams.
We are producing an event called Songs of Hope, Stories of Haiti on May 12 at the Backbeat Cafe. I'm really excited since in between some great musicians doing brief sets, missionary Tara Livesay and her daughter Paige will be sharing their own stories from Haiti. Hopefully, lots of funds to support Heartline Ministries in Haiti will result.
Two of our three young men that live here start training for census jobs on Tuesday, so that will adjust schedules here a bit. I am gearing up for the last few weeks of this semester with my ESOL classes at El Centro. This time of the semester I am often as nervous as they are to see how they do on final exams.
We are producing an event called Songs of Hope, Stories of Haiti on May 12 at the Backbeat Cafe. I'm really excited since in between some great musicians doing brief sets, missionary Tara Livesay and her daughter Paige will be sharing their own stories from Haiti. Hopefully, lots of funds to support Heartline Ministries in Haiti will result.
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