Gypsy

The State Theatre

When my husband and I dream the ‘what if’ dream,
he wants 800 midwestern acres of forested land
with a lake. I want a tiny loft in Manhattan more ...
and access to Broadway.

There is power in live performance: sitting in the audience watching a story unfold on stage, experiencing our friends as actors immersed in the telling, seeing the characters struggle and change.

A daughter chooses a divergent path for her life.
A broken and demanding mother experiences tenderness.
A friend who is a quiet blonde appears on stage a bold brunet.

My heart engages in the transformation.

Paul-who-was-once-Saul writes about torment – a thorn in his flesh. Pain? Brokenness? Struggle? Change?

Struggle is inherent in our humanity. The gritty pain and brokenness of life on earth are instruments of change. And God reassures us:

My grace is enough; it's all you need.

My strength comes into its own in your weakness.

—2 Corinthians 12:9 more

God invites us to embrace the gypsy, the weary traveler within, the child destined not for this earthly life but for her one true home.

Rw

Photo Credit: Gypsy

Submission

Pastor Jesus

Again this week someone invited me to join their church – not collaborate but actually leave my faith community in favor of theirs.

It is an awesome experience to feel so welcome within a faith community that we invite others in. I believe this is what Christ intended: inviting, welcoming and encouraging others.

Though just a few short weeks ago her invitation might have offered a welcome respite, today my heart says Never!

I can't imagine life here on earth without Fellowship.

And Fellowship is difficult. Intimacy and transparency can be exhausting as we mix in our broken humanity: misunderstandings, mismatched personalities, old wounds and fresh pain.

In an effort to avoid hurting others, fragile-ME wants to be polite, which at some point causes human-ME to slink away in shame and self-doubt, which causes broken-ME to rage, which brings true-ME to my knees before my Creator – eventually.

I wish it didn't take so long.

I search desperately for someone else to blame.

On my knees before my Lord, I realize the biggest stumbling block is ME.

Submission is not an attitude nor a moment of decision. Submission is a journey.

As a writer I often envy Paul, his adventures recorded, his acts of faith read over centuries by millions of people exploring the New Testament. As a follower of Christ, I celebrate Paul's candid and human words:

When someone gets to the end of his rope, 

I feel the desperation in my bones. 

When someone is duped into sin, 

an angry fire burns in my gut.

If I have to "brag" about myself, 

I'll brag about the humiliations 

that make me like Jesus ...

I crawled through a window in the wall, 

was let down in a basket, and had to run for my life.

 —2 Corinthians 11:28-22 excerpt more

This past Sunday my friend and pastor knelt during our teaching, demonstrating a posture of submission. podcast

I celebrate his candidness and humanity, his willingness to kneel.

Though just a few short weeks ago I sought respite, today my heart says Never!

Fellowship is where I belong.

Rw

Illustration by David Hayward Pastor Jesus

Baggage

It is so easy to get lost in the darkness, to experience our bodies as though we are breathing thick black oil instead of fresh clean air, to disengage ourselves from community and crawl into our wounds, forget that the night is nearly over.

When people ask how I came to be here in this place, my story begins with a decade long absence from community — a drought violently begun in 1997 when I broke away from Catholicism, a long dry season that ended ten years later in the open arms of a holy catholic apostolic church, a multi-denominational community, a place where for weeks I did not introduce myself, was known only as the woman who cries.

Yesterday, after a 40 day absence, I returned home. As my heart steps out of the darkness, the tears flow freely.

Breathing the thick black oil of darkness began nearly a year ago, triggered unintentionally by a person who mistook compassion for friendship, a person who cannot hear my pain, a person cruelly misled as plastic me expanded to mask the inadequacy inherent in my humanity.

I allowed the oily plastic mask to distance me from God and disconnect me from true friends, the people who love deeply enough to accept me baggage and all.

The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. 

So let us put aside the deeds of darkness...  

—Romans 13:12 NIV more

I am again the woman who cries.

Rw

Listen to Sunday podcast here
Catholic vs. catholic more
David Hayward, Naked Pastor baggage 

Affirmations

"Good morning, this is God..." reads the front of the card on my desk, the one my baby sister sent in October. Beside it, a friend's 2012 New Year's note and new parents' pink birth day thanks bring a smile.

Tucking my treasures into the
wire catch-all above my desk,
I think about good and bad days, the ups and downs life takes. My stash contains paper affirmations, notes of thanks, wisps of weddings, funerals and births, puffs of ordinary weekdays and long weekend holidays.

Days of bright hope. Dark nights of despair.

the image upsets my little Catholic girl

The little Catholic girl in
my head says NO NO NO
to Smoking Jesus. My inner
rebel enjoys her discomfort, embraces the many changes birthed in our adult pain.

This image brings laughter, then tears. I remember the darkness. The permission to rest. A friend witnessing the struggle. Encouraging words.

As I read the New Testament as though it were a novel - the little Catholic girl screams NO NO NO at the casual word NOVEL - the Bible story of Jesus feeding thousands with
a few loaves of bread and a couple fish is framed by granite bookends, deep adult pain.

When Jesus learns that his cousin, John, has died He withdraws
by boat, privately, to a solitary place.

The crowds follow Him.

He has compassion on them, heals their sick, gives them something to eat.

Later, sending the disciples ahead by boat and dismissing the crowds, Christ climbs the mountain, seeking solitude, prayer.
Jesus stays there alone, late into the night.

Christ grieves deeply. His pain opens my heart.

I cry out in fear.

Jesus responds,“Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”


Rw
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Matthew 14 NIV
Photo Credits Smoking Jesus Loaves and Fishes

Encouraging Words

Thank you for all you do. You are a good shepherd. You are
striving to lead people where our enemy is not interested
in you going. You are following the One True Lord. The
people you remind me of are stuff of legend.

You are wounded. Its time you admit your humanity and take
care of yourself. You are not alone.

These pictures make me think of you and I pray that they
bring a smile to your lips and to your heart.
—your friend and champion

.

in the midst of our own uncertainty

When you bring blessing to any other in the midst of your own uncertainty and the depth of the complexity of your own life, when you bring the blessing of the radical Word of God into any human life, you are speaking in tongues. You are speaking language that defies the power of Babel. You are building bridges that somehow get to the very depth of what every human heart desires.
—Dan Allender

As I listen to this podcast, I scramble to scribble down the words, my heart pounding with recognition. Uncertainty, an asphalt layer of darkness lurking just beneath my skin, is an almost constant companion.

My confidence in writing experiences a hiccup. Or perhaps cardiac arrest? I find it difficult to access my inner voice. My writing, the words of my blog, inflicted pain. It happened. I am aware. In that moment, warmth and sunlight evaporate, give way to the bitter cold of self-doubt, uncertainty. The asphalt layer hardens.

In that moment, I want to give up, to retreat from this seemingly insane quest.

Topics. Speaking. Changing minds and hearts. A list lays on my desk, to the left of my keyboard...
empowerment
vulnerability
heaven on earth
we can take it with us
not the $
but the people
relationships
Yes. No.

My heart desires the building of bridges, words of encouragement and affirmation, the richness of vulnerability and transparency in radical defiance of societal expectations and cultural divides. Human connection in Christ.

The complexity of the journey continues to astonish me.

Rw

list Undone

Babel Genesis 11:1-9

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Hesitate

One day, in a blog, I read these words, “... times are cut out for brutal honesty ...”

The words that followed were and are hauntingly brutally hurtful.

I am uncertain this morning about the words I am posting to my own blog. I am so very aware of my own human frailties.

I am unsure how to respond with my abilities.

... each speaker gets a chance to say something special from God, and you all learn from each other. If you choose to speak, you're also responsible for how and when you speak. When we worship the right way, God doesn't stir us up into confusion; he brings us into harmony. This goes for all the churches—no exceptions. MSG

or ... if you prefer ...

... one by one, that all may learn and all may be encouraged. And the spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets. For God is not the author of confusion but of peace, as in all the churches of the saints. NKJV

If I choose to speak, I am responsible for how and when. I am responsible for my words.

Words that bring discord and confusion are not brutally honest – just brutal.

Today, I hesitate. With every key stroke, there is pain.

Rw

excerpts 1 Corinthians 14:26-33




Nothing To Lose by Tanner Christianson
“Self-censorship is not just self-betrayal and self-abandonment (which would be bad enough), but soul-betrayal and betrayal of our Muse, out inner voice, our highest self.” Too often we censor ourselves, our actions, and our work in hope or fear of what might happen if we otherwise don’t. What words would you write today, and what actions would you take, if you had nothing to fear, nothing to lose? TC