The Art of Losing

I have been surrounded with loss and death these last few months. My co-worker’s dad committed suicide. My other co-worker’s friend died in a car accident the day after her 21st birthday. My closest friend’s 5 year old nephew was hit by a car and died. One of my other friends shared recently that her and her husband have lost 18 people in the last 12 months, and it has so upset him that he is spending some time in a mental health care facility. Last night, Tim and I found out that his Oma passed away. And, of course, Tim lost our church and many of our close friends last month. Some of our friends that have decided to leave have lost that too. We lost faith in those people—in the church that we moved here to serve.

Closely related to the feeling of loss is loneliness. I am lonely for my family. I am lonely for the next step in our life. I am lonely at work. In these last few weeks, Tim’s schedule has changed to work nights, so I have been seeing him even less, and I think with that loss everything else comes more poignant.

I’m tired of losing. I’m tired of death. But with the sheer amount of both in my life I feel a strange sense of clarity, urgency. People die all the time. People that shouldn’t die. Things we love are stolen from us. Moments pass too quickly. And all this begs the inevitable question:

Am I living?

Am I as happy as I could be? Am I pursuing things that I care about? Am I investing in things that matter? 

Undefinable Weights

I suppose we all have those times when we wake up in the morning struck by an unexplainable heaviness. A weight that feels almost tangible.

Granted this has been a strange few months for me. It has been so bizarre how much the incident with our previous church has affected me. I find myself growing impatient about how it still hasn't passed. How grieved I still feel. How unexpectedly so many people were ripped out of my life. And how even in anger and grief, I still care about them. I'm concerned with how they're doing, I still believe that they're good people. Maybe that in itself is the most painful. What was so wrong with us that they couldn't stand to have us in their lives any more? You can say as much as you want, "it's me not you" but when has that ever lessened anyone's pain? When has that ever actually meant that you were not part of the equation?

I think I also still feel myself spinning, and frustrated again that that doesn't seem to have settled yet. I know the phrase "the rug pulled out from under you" is overused, but I can't think of a better metaphor to describe the emotional and spiritual vertigo I feel. What does God have for us next? How long will we tread water in Sacramento? Or are we here to stay for awhile?

Honestly, I think that is part of the heaviness I feel: a need to have more purpose or at least the fulfillment that comes with being dedicated to where you are and what you're doing. Perhaps some parts of enjoying the journey of life is feeling the heaviness of the need to be intentional. Or perhaps the heaviness is the soul screaming for the need to intentionally find something fulfilling. Amidst the muck and fog of life, I stir.

N.T. Wrights on my Soul

This is not a task Simply for a few backroom specialists. If church leaders themselves spent more time studying and teaching Jesus and the Gospels, a good many of other things we worry about in day-to-day church life would be seen in their proper light. It has far too often been assumed that church leaders stand above the nitty-gritty of biblical and theological study; they have done all that, we implicitly suppose, before they come to office, and now they simply have to work out the "implications." They then find themselves spending countless hours at their desks running the church as a business, raising money or working at dozens of other tasks, rather than poring over their foundation documents and enquiring ever more closely about the Jesus whom they are supposed to be following and teaching others to follow. I believe, to the contrary, that each generation has to wrestle afresh with the question of Jesus, not least its biblical roots if it is to be truly church at all--not that we should engage in abstract dogmatics to the detriment of our engagement with the world, but that we should discover more and more of who Jesus was and is, precisely in order to e equipped to engage with the world that he came to save. And this is a task for the whole church, especially those appointed to leadership and teaching roles within it.
--N.T. Wright, The Challenge of Jesus


I'm not sure exactly how to follow that except perhaps, amen and amen. I suppose I am in church leadership, but I think I would more easily identify with being the wife of a husband who is in church leadership. And that is something quite different entirely. It is perhaps, easier to have opinions & observe closely, but still maintain a position on the perimeter. It is much to easy to be involved but not involved. This last year has been eye opening, challenging, frustrating and rewarding. It's just too easy, I think, for humans to get involved and muck everything up. I don't approve of the other's expectations for me, she perceives the church is headed the wrong direction, the order of the service has not been properly planned, he spoke out of turn, I didn't agree with this particular sermon. And on and on it goes. 


I'm sick of church politics. I'm tired of the business. 


What I am not tired of is being with the people at church. Challenging and encouraging each other. Being with people who remind me, just by being who they are, that there is much to strive for in life, there is a deeper relationship to be had, there is always Someone who is in control. There is always love.


I think Wright really brings us around and redefines our perspective when he exhorts us to investigate Christ. ALL of us. How better to follow Christ than to journey together, to discover and learn together? When all of who we are, our life, our theology, our relationships, and our church are Christ-centered, we are closest to being the creatures God created us to be. We can be on the same path together, headed the same direction, and it can look different for each and every person. We can do church, and, in my dreams, lose the business of it. 


Amen and Amen?

The Truth about Being Poor

It seems to me that I am always encouraged to have and pursue my dreams. Live Life! people say. You're so young! You can do anything!! But here's my question:

How do I "live life" when I have to live my life at work, investing in things I've no natural proclivity to care about? What is the point of having dreams if they only point to the fact that I can't pursue them?

And this has brought me to a new place. Why did God have such a heart for the poor? I'm thinking it's because the poor have no freedom. They never have the choice to run off and pursue their dreams. They don't have time to do the things that really fulfill their souls. The poor have to figure out where the money is going to come from to pay for groceries that week, or rent, or electricity, or for many, simply food.

I beseech you not to think I have placed myself too closely to the poor in our world. I know I have much to be thankful for. But changing circumstances always bring new insights and perspectives and these are mine.

Something New...

I've started a new blog! I figured since I couldn't stop talking about gardening, all my ideas, projects and things that are growing, I'd spare my friends and take it out on the computer.

satisfyingthesoul.blogspot.com

Pondering

For a good deal of my life, I have felt like I was owed "direction" from God. Some sort of sense of calling, or specific passion. A desire to do just one thing. I have felt frustrated by other people knowing exactly what they want. I have been envious of them and their drive. I hate that other people seem to know where they are going. I have railed at God, asking why I am not worth giving me a clue as to what I should do.

Last night, I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling as Tim slept peacefully. I prayed about all the apathy I am feeling. Apathy for work, for Sacramento, for the lack of drive I feel to go back to school. Apathy even for the church I moved down here for. And yet again, I asked him about my life. This journey I'm on. Where am I going? What can I change to really engage my life? What should I do? And I sensed one of those listening silences.

It was a silence that said:

I have given you everything. You decide what to do with it.

I suppose I have realized this at other times in my life. And this idea has gradually worked itself out in different ways, but I guess I never really thought about it so directly. Or perhaps it was just what I needed to hear in the moment.

So, in keeping with the motif of this blog, I am gradually going to attempt to integrate school back into my life. Last night I dreamed of setting up a plan with Dr. Slane of figuring out which school I should get my Master's at and a plan of how to arrive there.



...And I am exhausted of being exhausted by the weather here. I am going to do my best to lure fall in by putting chrysanthemums on my doorstep.

Alas, fall arrives and brings with it the dulcet whispers of nostalgia

Unbearable Weather

So, people in California are continually amazed that I actually really love the rain. I guess they think it kind of ruins any daytime activities and really depressing. I've never really understood that mentality until this weekend. But it wasn't because of the rain. It was 108 degrees here yesterday.

In that kind of heat, I didn't want to go outside, I didn't want to be in my garden, go for a walk, swim, walk the dog. In fact, I had a hard time motivating myself to do anything but lay on my bed with a fan on me. It was actually kind of depressing. I couldn't even appreciate the sun.

So, to kick the heat today, Tim, our friend, Adam, Ellie and I all went to the river (before noon of course or else it's just too hot)! It was a lovely day of relaxing, throwing the ball for Ellie and the boys climbed up some rocks and jumped off!! Then of course, Tim had to climb like 50' up under the bridge and jump off. (There's a video below) That man. I swear--he keeps me on my toes, I guess :)

***face pre-jump***

Ellie still hasn't ventured in to swim yet, but she's getting braver every time we take to the river. I think we wore her out today though--she's sleeping peacefully at my feet right now. Tim's out to coffee with a friend on the worship team and I am enjoying a quiet evening at home.


***Face post-jump***

***Ellie--a little exhausted after 2 hours of runnin around***

A fun day off together.