where waves grow sweet

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17

After a rough couple of days working stuff out, holding old ugly beliefs up to the light, and choosing to stand in truth despite emotions to the contrary, I felt like I was in an in-between place last night… knowing God would walk me through but not being there quite yet.

I was in bed, searching for something in my email, when I happened upon a conversation with a friend from 5 years ago. It was a sweet friendship and one I haven’t thought about in a long time. That alone felt comforting, and made me glad that I’ve put off cleaning out my bottomless pit of an inbox. But, on top of that, the content of the conversation hit on the exact thing I have been working through.  I would love to share the whole thing, but it wouldn’t be right, so I will just share my response…

I am so very sorry about whatever happened that set in that self-condemnation.  I know the torment of it and wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I sincerely hope that God has pulled you near and spoken his truth over you.

It’s amazing how I can feel so justified in my sense of disqualification from the joys and intimacy of life, and feel so simultaneously heart broken and outraged (at a lying bastard of an enemy) over yours.  It’s also amazing to me how different our histories are but how wildly uncreative the enemy is in his lies. That we’re destined to walk a lonely road, that isolation is somehow part of God’s plan, that we get to observe rather than participate. And how we then we use our life experience as proof of this rejection, rather using the word of God through faith as proof that it is not who Christ Jesus has destined us to be.  I say bullcrap.

Here’s the thing.  We serve a God of relationship – one who called us to love above anything else.  Everything we do comes out of a relationship with God and if there is any way we’re feeling excluded from either an intimacy with God or with others, we’ve been conned into some totally false belief system.  We have desires in our heart to be connected because we were created to be connected.  We are in no way exempt from God’s command to love God, ourselves and others.  People won’t always love us back so it’s a risk.  But we’re being idolatrous in thinking that we can protect ourselves because it means we’re not trusting in the loving hand of our Father to protect us and in his power to heal our crushed hearts when we do get hurt.  The other problem is that often we’re going to be loved back and for those of us who have trouble on the receiving end, rejection is the easier, more familiar path. On that count, all we can do is cry out for the courage to set aside our well-grooved patterns and for the ability to receive love.

I so totally relate to the dark scripting of life and the “safety” of it but I think we need to open our eyes and see that it’s not our scripting – it’s the scripting of the enemy – and we’re living out a completely compromised life in exact accordance to his intent.  He knows he can’t always get us to outright deny God so he just compromises our hope in God’s love and acceptance.  And if we’re living according to his script, do we really think we’re going to live richly and intimately?  Oh man, it gets me so ticked off.

So Father, I thank you that you knew us before the foundations of the earth and that you formed us through the overflowing love of the trinity.  I thank you that you’ve called us by name, that you delight in even saying our name.  I ask that you would remove the burden of a dark calling and help us to walk out the true script you have – one of hope, innocence, joy and intimacy.  I ask that you would help us to be a child before you, living moment by moment in response to you.  I ask that we would be able to receive the fullness of your mercy every day, forgetting what is behind, walking with a light heart full of anticipation and laying down every care before your mighty hands.  I ask that you would show us that we are safe in your care, and that we can risk everything on this earth because we’re loved by you and it’s all that matters.  I ask that we would gain the kind of freedom that makes us want to run down the streets shouting of your goodness; that we would stand in your truth and reflect who you really are. Please help us to be representatives of your glory rather than of our insecurities and disappointments.  Please draw us close and help us to love you.  Amen.

Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Matthew 7:7-8

I think I’ve shared my deep affinity for the gps component on my phone. It is such an improvement on the old days of printing maps from mapquest before leaving the house. The main problem with that method was that you had to know exactly where you were going beforehand, and there could be no deviating from the plan. If you took a wrong turn or added a stop, it changed everything and your map became ineffectual.

Now, I am free to hop in the car and drive, knowing that I have help when I need it. If I am completely lost and need to get a sense of my surroundings, this heavenly little gps will locate me by satellite and tell me where I am.  And, as if a gift from God for my existence on this earth, it can tell me how to get where I need to go. With “current location” as a starting point, and an address or a store name as an ending point, it will map out my course. No matter how many times I fail or get off course, it never shames me. It just adjusts the directions and sends me on my way.

Recently I got lost trying to figure out some spiritual things, and felt all turned around and upside down and inside out and couldn’t quite grab hold of the things I felt were sitting right in front of my crossed eyes. I tried to retrace my path but ended up somewhere I didn’t recognize at all, with a useless map on the passenger seat and a bit of panic rising up.

A good friend, who was walking out a major struggle at the time and looking for some answers, arrived at the conclusion that she just needed to seek the Lord by carving out time with him and he would set everything right. It is so simple, but brought me back to the truth I knew and forgot and know again. That there is no place on, above, or below this earth that the Lord can’t find us. Not only can he track where we are, but he knows exactly how to get us where we need to go. And not only does he know how to get us there, but it is his very heart to lead us there, step by step, until we arrive at our destination.

It doesn’t matter how many times we make a wrong turn, get distracted, or are lured off the path by some unnamed coffee shop. He will never shame us, and will always, always direct us in the way we need to go. The best part is we don’t even need to know where we are or where we need to be. He knows. He has the directions for every good thing we want and need. He knows where we need to be protected, and where we need to be stretched. He knows where we need encouragement, comfort, satisfaction, strength, wisdom, and all the rest. He has our healing in his hands. And it is all ours as we seek him, ask him, listen to him, learn from him, be with him. We will arrive at the places of our hearts desire, being better people for the company, and sporting a smile instead of the disheveled look of a weary traveler.

But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31

Well, I just signed up for a half marathon in February which I will be walking, not running. Maybe that’s cheating, but it’s what I’ve got and I’m going with it. It’s hard to say exactly why I feel compelled to pay money to walk really far, but I do and I’m going with that too.

Here’s the funny thing. It was on one of my recent walks to the beach – on the crappy part when I’d walked like 8 miles and was almost home yet a seeming eternity away – that I decided I wanted to walk even farther. Maybe it’s because I’m learning to see some of the hard stuff as a journey; as something not only to push through but to gain from.

After deciding on this one in February, I came across another one in May, and decided it made much more sense to put it off. I mean, I have been very busy and the holidays are coming, and more time is better, right? My head said absolutely yes, but my heart said heck no.

I am coming to recognize this voice as good and wise and decidedly inspired by God because I am neither good nor wise. When I listen to it – this voice that overrides fears and doubts and laziness, that calls me into quietness and then up out of it – there is never regret; only joy.

So I went ahead with the one in February and will do what I can with the time I’ve got. Who knows, maybe by May I’ll be ready to walk the whole darn marathon. Probably not. But what I do know is that I will continue to listen to the voice of the Lord until I know it as well as my own and until I follow it more faithfully.

In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength. (Isaiah 30:15)

It’s been a whirlwind of a weekend. Full of good things and great people. I feel lucky. And beat. But as I am finally having a chance to sit down in a quiet room with my plans wrapped up, my responsibilities accomplished, and my weekend coming to an end, I feel peace.

I was inspired tonight by a post by my dear friend, Sarah, to be quiet and reflect. So, in lieu of writing tonight, I am going to share a post from her blog, Spiritual Wheaties (www.spiritualwheaties.blogspot.com):

Whistle while you WORK, dammit!

You know, I think there is a big push in our culture to suppress ingenuity, imagination and intelligence. We end up with this massive “to do” list that consumes so much of our time that actual thinking and reflection is sacrificed for work, work, work.

I think about my students, particularly my IB students. They have a very big to do list. Between Extended Essays, Internal Assessments, External Assessments, classroom requirements, and college applications, it is a wonder that they have time for any extra-curricular activities (which of course they need in order to have sterling college applications that show their dedication to being well-rounded… whew). Then there is the life they live, which is very complicated because they are very complicated beings, emotionally turbulent, hormonally variable, tired, growing, and sensorily overloaded. It makes my head spin to think about it.

And then I think about myself. I teach, and yet so much of my job is ostensibly NOT about teaching. I have to analyze data, assess school-wide problems, determine solutions for said problems, participate in professional development, participate in surveys, individually coach failing students, promote programs, write recommendation letters, advise extra-curricular clubs, contact parents, and meet with colleagues. All of those are important, and necessary parts of a functioning school, but I wonder how much they add to my teaching practice. As a teacher, I find that in order to be a better teacher, I must reflect on my practice daily. That may involve sitting and staring at a wall. And perhaps this sitting and staring at a wall has been mistaken for “free time” by the powers that be. Henceforth, my obligatory “to do” list grows.

I tried something different with my seniors this last week. They had to visually represent a scene from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and explain how it used the perspective of Via Positiva, which we had been talking about that day. They wowed me completely with these creative, thoughtful, funny, and ingenious ideas. And they came up with these ideas in 10 minutes! Their imagination is intact. Their ingenuity is right under the surface waiting to be unleashed!

When did reflection and thinking and considering become so suppressed? My personal belief is that this idea came about from the Puritans. We are a nation founded on a very strong work ethic. Those people had to work in order to live here. This work ethic founded America, gosh-darnit, and was amplified during the depression when my grandparents grew up. My grandfather was a hard-worker who put in an honest day’s work as a metal worker. Later, in the 60’s, my grandparents couldn’t understand my uncle’s job as a scientific researcher. They couldn’t understand how someone could be paid to think about salamanders.

Where would we be without creativity and thinking and reflection. We wouldn’t have the computer without creativity. We wouldn’t have life-saving surgical devices without reflection. We wouldn’t have the unbelievebly useless devices advertised at Bed Bath and Beyond, products like “The Mangroomer” (really? reaaaaaaallly?). Okay, I guess that isn’t the best argument for my point today.

What I do think is that reflection and thinking are critical (if somewhat pooh-poohed) aspects of any professional practice. I wonder if we can allow ourselves the time to sit and think. The time to reflect on what we do well and what we can do better. The time to stop and make decisions that aren’t based on panic, time, or desperation.

My challenge to you today is that you stop and think for 20 minutes. Stare out a window, listen to yourself, think about what you do and how you do it. Your practices will not suffer from your pausing.

By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures. Proverbs 24:3-4

My sister, Karen, and her husband, Gino, put an offer in on a house last week. It was accepted and they are thrilled. Of course there are inspections and other things that still have to happen, but it is looking good. The house is all the way in Maryland, but I am extremely happy for them anyway. Especially because they have an active daughter and another on the way, and a dog that gets depressed if she doesn’t have room to romp. And maybe even more so because they have been on a long journey to get where they are and it is always nice to settle after a long journey.

This got me wondering about myself. I have never wanted to buy a house. Ever. Not that I wouldn’t like to live in a nice neighborhood, maybe even in a house with a  pool and a nice place to sit outside. But the thought of buying something feels weighty and restrictive. Maybe that’s why I like my tortoises so much. They have a sense of permanence without restriction.

This reaction may have something to do with the fact that we moved dozens of times when I was a kid, and buying and selling houses seemed to be a driving factor in that process. Moving was hard and a hassle. It made it difficult to grow roots or emotionally settle in any given place. It also made it easy to avoid problems, and created a rhythm of newness and change. If I am at all adaptable, this may be why.

But it can’t all be due to my upbringing. Two of my siblings have jumped into the settled life of home purchases, and the other will probably do the same the moment he is able. Which, again, makes me wonder about myself.

My mom has always called me a free spirit, but I’m starting to wonder it that just means I am allergic to any kind of meaningful commitment. I love wide open spaces in my physical and emotional world, and hate the idea of being pinned down. The thought of having the same job for any number of years squashes my brain against my skull like one of those spinny rides at a carnival. And being bogged down by duty sucks the life out of me like a hungry pig at a teat. I would have made a terrible queen.

I have made progress though. We have lived in this house for several years, and I’m happy about that. It has been an extraordinary pleasure to build relationships rather than start up new ones every year or two. I worked at my last job for nearly four years, which was a huge milestone, and I only left because I was laid off, so that doesn’t even really count.

I also have to pat myself on the back for having been a mom for 15 years. This role has played an enormous part in reigning in all my crazy temptations and teaching me to be still. I am coming to love that stillness. It is so good. But not stillness in a home with a my name on the mortgage. Which is also good for now, since I don’t exactly have wads of cash laying around looking for a permanent residence.

p.s. I just found that verse on the top and think it is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read. It makes me want to change my whole post. But I have to go pick Cole up at Disneyland so you’ll just have to wait for whatever deep and meaningful thing I would have said.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28

Last week felt tumultuous on some levels. Maybe it was dredging up stories from hard times, despite the clear narrative of God’s love throughout. Maybe it was the effort involved in wrapping my unfit brain muscles around the new truth I am learning about the Bible and this great God I serve. Maybe it was the slower pace at work hindering my momentum, and the ensuing struggle with motivation to commit my heart there rather than here.

Regardless, it has been a quiet, gentle weekend. Salve to a raw soul. On Friday night, I watched an old Audrey Hepburn with my mom. We discussed our thoughts on our class and why the law does not contradict the promise of God. I then had a late-night exercise session with to my circa 1983 Callanetics video.

Yesterday, I went on a walk to think and pray. It was a stunning summer-like day and even though I planned to turn around at the bridge, I found myself walking to the beach, sorting through thoughts that have been lingering for a few years. I intended to let them go and get closure, but instead opened up a dialogue with God that will continue on until they reach a natural end. I came home and soaked my body in the tub, while rereading parts of a book that challenged me. I read some of it to Cole too, while he feigned disinterest. Then we played Life, best two out of three games, and both cheated… just a little bit. We watched a kids movie and a British sitcom, and laughed together.

I slept until 10:00 this morning and threw some clothes on to meet my friend, Kristi, at my favorite Peet’s. It’s the one on MacArthur with the tables gathered around the fountain. I sipped a chai latte while my shoulders toasted in the sun. We spent three lazy hours getting caught up on life and family and work. She got bangs and new sunglasses, and looked fantastic. She is finally getting over the cold that took her down – just in time for her trip to New York, when I will be staying at her house, watching her dogs, and ensuring enjoyment of the pool and jacuzzi.

It is a beautiful day. My soul feels as quiet as my small tortoise hibernating beneath the mossy ground. I think I might ask Cole to join me for a game of miniature golf. I know he’s getting older and I’m no longer his favorite person to spend time with, but there are these windows of connection that can be flung open from time to time for fresh air and a chance to enjoy the sweetness of a November summer.