Life Through Meghan's Eyes

RJ

2009-12-02T19:35:00.000-08:00

(RJ's Current Facebook Profile Pic)

My brother RJ is six years younger than me. He has always done things in his own sort of way. A way that is very different than mine. I remember that when he was little he would carry around this old brief case of my dad’s and fill it with all the weirdest things and he would bring it EVERYWHERE. One of my clearest memories of the briefcase was right after Christmas. My sister (6 years old), RJ (2 years old), and I (8 years old) were all in the back seat on the way home after a yummy McDonalds outing. And out of nowhere RJ throws up his burger and fries all over his briefcase. And even after the throw up event he still carried it around with him everywhere.

I have mostly taken the “good girl” approach to life. I follow the rules. I do as I am told. I respect authority. I am responsible. I have always done a good job at winning the approval of my elders (teachers, coaches, parents, friends’ parents, bosses, etc.) RJ has not taken this approach to life. He is more in the “have fun and worry about the consequences later” approach to life. His senior year of high school he came back from a Spring Break Cruise with “5+4=9” tattooed on his foot. I asked him why and he just said, “why not?”. He is currently in his sixth year of college. No specialized degree…just taking his time I guess. For the past 10 or so years I think that RJ’s biggest worry has probably been missing out on a really fun party.

RJ has never really been one for having girlfriends. I’ve always assumed that girls were interested in him as he is both handsome and winsome. And maybe there were casual hook ups, but nothing at all serious. The serious side of life seems to be something that RJ tries to avoid.

About a year or so ago my mom informed me that there was a girl that RJ worked with at Friday’s that had been coming over a lot. When I would be home for holidays or summer visits I would catch glimpses of this new girl. She was very pretty, but also unbelievably shy. She would barely look up when I would say hi to her. I really knew was that her name was Janie and that she worked at Fridays with RJ.

I kind of assumed that as time went by Janie would probably disappear. But Janie did not disappear. I was so curious about her and why she seemed so distant and removed, and how the dynamic of her and RJ worked.

This past summer my dad got remarried and RJ more or less forced Janie to come to the wedding. This is when I first found out that in high school Janie had cancer. I don’t remember how it came up, but she ended up telling me that she had lymphoma and missed out on a lot of high school. That is all she really said.

I wanted to ask her so many more questions.

When I was home last week for Thanksgiving, RJ mentioned, in his usual light hearted way, that Janie had a tumor in her shoulder and they were doing surgery to remove it. That’s all he knew.

On Thanksgiving, RJ was on the phone with my dad, and my mom just looked over at Janie and said, I heard that you have a tumor in your shoulder and that you are getting it removed next week. And, Janie just started talking. She started to tell us her story.

When Janie was 14 years old, she had lymph node in her neck that had been swollen for a couple months and so finally they went to the doctor. They found that it was cancer and it had spread all over her body. She has had over 18 surgeries. She has had over 20 rounds of chemo and radiation. She has had a bone marrow transplant. She will most probably never be able to have children. The doctors say that she should have died and it is a miracle that she is alive. She missed pretty much all of high school. She never went to a dance. She never went to a football game. She never had a boyfriend. She never even had any girl friends. For most of those years she slept either at the hospital or in a bed in her living room and was too weak to even walk to the bathroom alone.

I sat there watching this girl talk about these horrific events. I’m looking at this tiny and beautiful girl, who has obviously become so numb and so angry at the world around her. And why wouldn’t she be.

The reason that she works at Fridays is because her parents and her doctors thought that she needed some kind of interaction with the outside world after having been kept away for so long.

That night my mom lay in bed and cried. She cried for Janie. She cried for RJ.

It’s funny how life turns out. The irony of RJ and Janie. It’s actually really beautiful. The reason humans are all drawn to tragedy is that in all tragedy there is a deeper and truer beauty there. It is in these places of pain and destruction and struggle that new life is found. I do not believe that we are most alive in the easy places of life. I believe that it is the tragedy that so often wakes us up from our sleep walk.

The Plan

2009-11-11T13:16:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to put Isaac down for his nap just like every other day. Since we moved into our house about a month ago, Isaac has gotten promoted to a “big boy bed”. In part this promotion was due to his age and readiness, but in part it was due to the fact that somehow in the midst of moving we lost some crucial pieces to Lily’s crib. Since Lily is younger it only made sense that she would get Isaac’s crib, and Isaac would sleep in a big bed.

For the most part this plan has been going pretty seamlessly. Seamlessly… until yesterday. I had already laid down Lily for her nap earlier and I took Isaac up to his bed. And right as I laid him down he said, “I want to sleep in E’s bed”. He calls Lily, E. I said, “no you cannot sleep in lily’s bed, because lily is sleeping in Lily’s bed.” Well, for some reason that didn’t matter to Isaac because for the next 45 minutes straight he wailed and hollered and screamed himself hoarse that he wanted to sleep in E’s bed.

On most days I would have simply said, “no, end of story, you cannot and will not sleep in E’s bed” and then I would have walked out of the room and cry as he may that would have been the end of it. I would have sat downstairs feeling angry and frustrated and wondering why he couldn’t just understand that he is supposed to sleep in his bed, and Lily is supposed to sleep in Lily’s bed.

But yesterday, something just hit me. As I looked at Isaac's tear soaked cheeks and his tear soaked shirt and watched his chest heave up and down with horrible sobs, I had this very deep sense of compassion and love towards him . To me this seemed like a simple situation with a simple answer, but to Isaac, for whatever reason, this was a very deeply upsetting scenario. And as I tried to pat his back, and wipe away his tears, and eventually just lay on the bed next to him as he sobbed, I saw myself and everyone else in Isaac.

In life we so often get these ideas of how we want things to go, or how we think things should go, or what our future will look like. As long as our life neatly follows the plan, we are happy as clams. But when we find out that our precious plans have gone awry, we find ourselves in Isaac’s shoes.

Because I am an adult, I know that it is not appropriate to scream and sob the way he does, even though it might do me some good, so I scream and kick in a much more subtle way. I do it through manipulation, or competition, or judgementalism. In the adult world, when things don’t go our way, we make a plan of how to get things back the way we want. And before we know it, we are bowing down to that plan; aligning all areas of our life to get the plan back on track.

Maybe it’s not about the plan. Maybe what I want, or the way that I think things should go, isn’t even good for me or for the ones that I love. Maybe I am too short sighted to be able to make good plans. Maybe there is Someone who is really in charge making a wonderful and beautiful plan that I need to trust and submit to.

Isaac couldn’t really see that he is too big for that crib. A bed will be more comfortable and well suited for him, and ultimately it will allow him the freedom that a crib will not. All he could think was that his crib was comfortable and it was part of his plan, and whatever he knew, he couldn’t let go of the plan. He ended up sleeping on the floor, because I guess in some way, the hard cold uncomfortable floor represented getting his way more than a cozy bed.

2009-11-09T11:49:00.000-08:00

Over Two Years Later:

I'm still me. It's funny to look back at all these posts, some that are five years old or more, and although my life has changed quite drastically, I still feel so much the same. That is one of the funny mysteries of life. I can think back to my first day of kindergarten, and it feels as though I was looking through the same set of eyes that I see the world through today. And they are the same eyes, but they are also very different eyes.

Since my last post it has been just over two years. I now have a two year old (Isaac) and my little girl (Lily) just turned one. Much of life is spent chasing after these two little people, and cleaning up lots of messes, and wiping lots of running noses, and snuggling with soft and warm little bodies, and laughing at the innocence of first tries at talking, walking, making friends, and figuring out life.

Becoming a mom in many ways has felt very natural and comfortable, but in some ways has been the biggest stretch of my life. There have been occasions when I am not proud of my behavior, when I have grabbed at my children in rough ways, or have literally screamed at the top of my lungs at nothing and everything all at once. But what is so much bigger than those failures, is the grace that children bring to life. The grace of little hands grabbing for you. The grace of a two year old asking his mommy to lay with him at night and when I lay down he whispers, "come closer mommy." The grace found each night as I creep into their rooms and watch their chubby and angelic faces as they sleep. I try to remind myself each day, amidst the choas, that these are all such precious and fleeting moments.

So, back to the rebirth of my blog, I hope. I have been humbled and privledged to be part of a book that is coming out VERY soon called We Feel Fine. It is a project that was started right around the same time that I started this blog. It was started by two guys named Jonathan Harris and Sep Kamvar. They created a program that would scan the internet (especially blogs) for the words, "I Feel" and then pick up any words that followed. Somehow this program picked up some words on my blog, from a post that I wrote about my dad way back. Anyway, something about my blog post hit Jonathan, and it became one of their favorites. They used it in presentations and explanations of their project. Now they have writen a book all about the project and my blog has been featured. HOW EXCITING!! Here is a link to their website: http://www.wefeelfine.org/.

Well...with the release of the book and all, I have started thinking that I need revive this blog. Between life with two small children, working for Young Life part time, and everything else that comes along with life, it's going to take commitment...but I think that I can do it!!! Here's to hoping.

I'm hoping that I will be able to write on all my musings about life. These include: God, spiritaulity, creativity, beauty found in both obvious and suprising places, children, relationships, family, food, and crafts. (I HATE the word crafts...when I hear the word crafts I automatically think of something made of felt, glue, and popsicle sticks...which is not what I am talking about... I am talking about finding ways to build, paint, or sew beautiful things that communicate something of value found either within or without.)

2007-07-13T13:03:00.000-07:00

My New Life

On June 4th my life changed in an amazing way and it will never be the same. My little boy was born. His name is Isaac Daniel Orr. He is the most precious thing I have ever seen. I was really nervous before he was born. I was nervous for a lot of reasons, but the biggest thing that I was nervous about it that I wouldn't love him. I know that might sound cold or horrible, but it is the truth. I have never really been a baby person. When I am around babies, I like them, but I am not dying to hold them. I haven't been the girl who grew up anxiously awaiting the day that I would be a mom. I knew that I wanted to have kids, but it wasn't going to be the culmination of my life.

So Isaac came into the world in quite a hurry. My labor was only just over 2 hours total. It was the craziest (and most painful) experience of my life. But...there are truely no words to express the joy, love, elation, and excitement I felt when they put that tiny little boy on my chest. The love I felt was so immediate and so deep. It shocked me. My face literally hurt from smiling. It was the most exhausting two hours of my life (he was born at 11:52pm) but yet I could not sleep all night long or the next night. I just laid in my bed thinking about this new tiny person that I was so undeniably in love with. I have always heard parents talk about this love that they have for their children that is just unexplainable, and I never understood it. Now I do. It is a miracle to feel this way about a tiny little person. Another crazy part is that I am loving him more every day.

On the day that we left the hospital I sat looking at Isaac and I couldn't stop crying. I wasn't crying out of joy, or fear, or anxiety, or depression. I was crying because I was looking at this perfect, tiny, innocent person and I felt a sense of guilt for bringing him into this world that is filled with so much hurt and pain and sin and darkness. I know that it is all part of the plan, but I couldn't help feeling a little bit like I wished for him to be back from wherever he came from, back to his place of light and love. That isn't going to happen, and I need to embrace the reality that he is not mine to protect from the pain and hurt of this world, but to know that I will love him through it all.

If you would like to see more Isaac pics please visit www.theorrfam.blogspot.com. I have been posting a lot more stuff there since Isaac was born...but I am not abondoning this blog all together.

2007-02-03T09:04:00.000-08:00

Numbers and Mirrors

One of my friends made me a mix of songs for Christmas. The first song on the mix is called Heaven Breaks by Sleeping at Last. Upon first hearing the song I liked it, but then the more that I listened to the song the more I liked it. And then one day when I was sitting at Panera writing in my journal the song came on and it was one of those moments. I don’t know if you know what I am talking about, but sometimes in life there are those moments where something happens that lifts you off the ground. Well in that moment listening to that song I was lifted off the ground. There were a couple lines in particular that really hit me. They are as follows:

“When Heaven meets the earth, we will have no use for numbers
To measure who we are and what we’re worth,
When Heaven meets the earth, we will have no need for mirrors
To tell us who to be and where we fit
Into this awkward point of view.
When angels meet the earth may our bodies be light
When angels meet the earth may our heavy hearts untie”

Why are we so caught up in numbers and mirrors? I think that there is something within our humanity that wants to be able to prove that we are worth it; to be able to prove that we are worthy of love, worthy or praise, worthy of relationships, worthy of God. And, it doesn’t help that we live in a culture that all but worships numbers and mirrors. As if that inner urge to deem our selves worthy by measuring up weren’t enough; there are messages surrounding us on every side reinforcing the idea that our worth is tied up in how much we have, how much we make, how much we weigh, how we look.

Is there any escape from these numbers? Is there any escape from all the mirrors? Can we live in this culture, in this time, in this place and not get caught up in measuring ourselves and those around us all the time every day? I don’t know, but if there is an escape I haven’t found it yet.

I think that the reason why this song lifted me off the ground that day was because in that moment the weight of my self measuring was taken from me. For a moment I felt free of the numbers I use to measure myself. I could actually imagine a time when there would be no use for numbers and mirrors, a time when my value would not be connected to those things.

Something that has recently disturbed me is how this mindset follows me even into ministry. I have become more confused than ever at how to genuinely minister to other people out of obedience and grace and not get tangled in the web of self. Am I motivated to do what I do because I want to be obedient to Christ, or because I want to be worthy of Christ? Do I feel a sense of satisfaction in ministry because God is glorified, or because I am being glorified? These are hard questions to ask and hard questions to answer.

For most of my Christian life I have heard people talk about how God’s grace is one of the most mysterious and difficult things for humans to understand or to grasp. I never really thought it was the difficult of a concept. Someone else took the punishment that we deserve for our sins. Seems pretty simple to me. But then I look at myself and realize how obsessed I am with being worthy and I realize that God’s grace doesn’t seem like much of a reality in my life at all.

And, that is what I think this all comes down to. GRACE. It really is mysterious. It really is difficult for our self absorbed minds and hearts to embrace. GRACE is about losing all our desires to become worthy on our own. If anyone has figured that out, please let me in.

2007-01-06T08:26:00.000-08:00

Transcending Words

I recently watched these two Johnny Cash videos. They are both amazing. They communicate things that I could spend hours trying to write and wouldn't even get close. They are different but I love them both. I would love to hear responses from those of you who watch them. Let me know what you think and how these videos impact you.

http://rednow.tv/expectnow/2006/12/04/gods-gonna-what/

http://rednow.tv/expectnow/2006/08/21/johnny-cash-hurt-video-next-week/

If you're curious, the website that these videos is posted on was made by a YL guy I work with (Bob). He started it as a way to continue communicating with kids after camp was over (he spoke at Castaway last summer). There's tons of other great stuff on this website. I hope you enjoy.

2007-01-02T17:00:00.000-08:00

New Year’s Resolutions

I couldn’t really decide this year if I wanted to make any new years resolutions. In the past few years, I have made a few. Three years ago I didn’t drink any soda for a whole year. Two years ago I did eight minute abs 5 times a week until mid June. Last year I started taking a multi-vitamin and I still do that. But I haven’t really been able to make up my mind about a resolution for this year.

I have a love-hate relationship with resolutions. I love them because they are a sign of new beginnings; a fresh start of sorts. But I hate them because so often they end in guilt and failure. I hate that feeling …and I think I hate feeling the fear of failure maybe even more than I even hate just feeling the failure. If I actually get to the failure it means that at least I have beaten the fear and at least that’s something.

I’m pretty sure that I have two resolutions for this year. I’m just going to do it. Here they are: the first one is to read the news at least 3 times a week. I am ashamed to admit how little I actually read or listen to the news. It really is embarrassing. My second resolution is to write on my blog more. Maybe I should specify…but I’m not going to. I’m just going to write more.

Much like my situation with resolutions, I find myself being motivated by fear way too often. Deep down inside of me I am so afraid of failing. It is like there is this little voice that follows me everywhere I go always cautioning me and reminding me that I might not really be able to do this or that. Or if I did do something it might not turn out very well. It’s not a voice that I feel like I can choose to listen to or not. The voice just becomes my reality and I find myself reeling in its wake.

That is one reason why I find my dad so amazing. Trust me he’s far from perfect. But, one way that he is different from 99.9% of the people I know, is that he isn’t afraid of failing. He has done things, really really risky things, with everyone in his life screaming in his ear that he will fail, and he still goes for it and doesn’t fail. It’s really amazing to me. I have no idea how he does it.

I really hate that little voice in my head. It’s not a mean voice though. It’s not a voice saying, “Meghan you suck, and you’re not good at anything.” It really seems like a nice soothing voice just letting me know that it’s a lot safer on this side of failure. And that is exactly why I hate it so much.

So…my final resolution for this year, (yes…I did start out wondering if I would make a resolution this year and now I am on my third) is that I won’t listen to that little voice as much as I did last year. I will take chances. And if I fail at least I will have tried and won’t continue to live in the fear.

2006-08-13T16:21:00.000-07:00

Blessed Are Those…

I LOVE summers. I think I may have written about this before, but I look forward to summers all year long. I love the smell of fresh cut grass in the air. I love lazy summer days that include going to the pool and having a bbq. I love walking outside without shoes on and the feeling of grass between your toes. I love that weird hissing sound of crickets at night. I love watching the sunlight sparkle in the water. I love the rustling of leaves of big Oak Trees. I love the glimmer of lightning bugs at dusk…ok I think you get the point.

Well, about two months ago I was looking forward to the best summer ever. I had so much to look forward too. First of all, Dan and I were going on assignment together to Wildhorse Canyon. Since I have been on YL staff I hadn’t had an assignment (spending a month at a YL camp in some kind of leadership role). Now that Dan was on staff we were both going to be heading out to Wildhorse Canyon in Antelope, OR to be head leaders together. It wasn’t my idea to go half way across the country and work with all people I had never met before, but Dan wanted an adventure and I knew that if we were together it would be totally fine. I was so excited about Dan and I having this shared experience…meeting new people, being in a new place, and serving God together each day.

Then when we got back from Wildhorse we would go spend up week up at the condo on Lake Erie to rest and relax. Then it was off to Frontier Ranch (best YL camp ever) with all the kids from WWSHS that we do YL with. This was something I had been praying for and getting excited about ALL YEAR!!! I just couldn’t wait.

To make things even more exciting, I found out a week and a half before we were leaving for Wildhorse that I was pregnant with my first. There were definitely some days where it just seemed like life was too good. Serisously.

I couldn’t believe how much I just loved life.

Four days before we were supposed to leave for Wildhorse Canyon we had Dan’s dad over for dinner. He was the first one we told about the baby. It was kind of a good bye dinner for the summer, seeing as how we were going to be gone so much. It was nice, but he didn’t seem to be feeling well and left early. Dan decided to go check on him later that night. He went over to find his dad laying unconscious and feverish. He was rushed to the hospital and we found out he had bacterial meningitis. Those first few days were so scary, so long, so confusing. Dan pretty much moved into the hospital. We thought in those first few days we would be saying our goodbyes to Stan forever, but in the ensuing weeks he fought through the bacterial meningitis. In those first few days, Dan had to make the decision not to go with me out to Wildhorse.

I remember sitting there in the snack shop on that first night with all the other assignment team (of which I knew no one) making our introductions and it was all I could do not to burst into tears in front of everyone. I felt lost…lonely…afraid…and angry. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I wasn’t supposed to be at this camp by myself in the middle of nowhere while Dan sat by his dad’s bed in Central DuPage hospital all month. I wasn’t supposed to be out there alone. WHY GOD????

After about a week out there things started to seem more normal. I started to get to know the team and they started to get to know me. My third week out there I started to have some problems with my pregnancy. I had to go to the hospital to have some tests. I was so afraid…but even more afraid to show it. I will never forget sitting in the emergency room in the most random po-dunk hospital when the hippie, burn out doctor came in and flippantly said to me…”well it looks like you are going to have a miscarriage.” I can’t imagine what the look on my face was. I was in shock. He quickly realized my shock and hurt and tried to immediately become more compassionate, but there wasn’t much he could say. It wasn’t for sure, but from what he could see it looked like I would have a miscarriage. WHY GOD????

I went back to camp and climbed up on my bunk and sobbed until I didn’t have any tears left.

I prayed that whole next week that if it was going to happen that it would wait until I got home. That is one prayer that God did answer this summer. I did not miscarry until a week after I got home.

I know that it is a common thing, but it is a deep hurt. Dan loved and comforted me with all he had…but he didn’t have much. He was so tired. Tired of living at the hospital. Tired of worrying about his dad. Tired of watching him suffer. Tired of praying prayers for healing. Tired of talking to doctors and nurses. Tired of the intensive care unit. Tired of not knowing what each day would hold…life or death. As his dad had successfully battled the bacteria meningitis he continued to be attacked by new bacteria, and every time he seemed to take one step forward, he would take two steps back. WHY GOD???

One thing that was helping to lift our spirits was our upcoming camp trip to Frontier Ranch. It was amazing all the kids that had signed up and were going. Some of these kids I had been praying for to sign up for over eight months. A group of freshman girls I was just really starting to connect with were signed up, as well as a group of junior girls that I absolutely love. I had never been so excited or ready for a camp trip.

The morning of our tirp we had all the leaders over to our house to pray. It was a beautiful time anointed by the Holy Spirit. I had never felt this excited for a camp trip. We were supposed to leave at 11:00 am. I went over to the YL office to finish up a few last details and at 10:30 am Dan called and told me that his dad had just died. WHY GOD???

I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I started shaking. In those kind of moments it is like everything just becomes a haze. I don’t think that your mind, body, or soul can really function in those moments. I became sort of like a robot for the next few hours. I went to where the busses were leaving for our camp trip and told everyone the sad news and stood in the parking lot and waved goodbye to the bus full of kids and leaders that I loved.

I was supposed to be on that trip. I was supposed to be on that bus. I was supposed to be leading that cabin. I was supposed to be there when all the kids got off the bus and experienced Frontier Ranch. I was supposed to be at that volleyball tournament. I was supposed to be at those leader meetings. I was supposed to be staying up late at night laughing and talking and crying with all those girls. WHY GOD???

This wasn’t the way my summer was supposed to be.

Or was it?

When I was at Wildhorse canyon dealing with so much fear and worry and sadness and loneliness, I found myself drawn into a certain verse in particular. It is found in Matthew 5:4. The verse is simple and short but it became the theme of my summer. It says, “blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Hmmmm…

The first 20 or more times I heard or read this verse I didn’t get it. It just didn’t really make sense to me. How could it be a blessing to mourn? I thought that blessings were all happy things like, getting a new house, having things go really well in relationships, when you found that parking space right when you needed one, when your favorite pair of pants were on sale, when you won a race or succeeded in something you were working hard for. HOW COULD MOURNING BE A BLESSING??? How could all of this mess be a blessing.

Well, I am here to say that in the midst of all that pain, all the questions, all the fear, all the doubt, all the lonliness, all the seemingly unanswered prayers, the last two months have been by far the most blessed months of my life. It is true what that verse says, that those who mourn are blessed because they are comforted. Not just comforted, but comforted by the almighty, the maker of heaven and of earth.

The last two months have been blessed for me because in the midst of the pain and lonliness and fear and a million other struggles I was able to stand on the firm ground of God’s love for me and His comfort. I was able to feel the embrace of the almighty. I was able to get up each day and go to the giver of all good things and receive the strength I needed to get through the day. I was forced to trust in something bigger than me and bigger than this world. I was forced out of the world of things we can see and touch and into the world of the unseen. I was forced to let go of my illusions of control and security that comes from this world and trust the one who is control of all things and rest in HIS security.

There are no words that can describe the beauty of the comfort of Christ. There are no words to describe the power of the God of the universe. And, there are no words to explain how blessed I have been.

2006-05-21T20:47:00.000-07:00

Seeing and Being

Tonight I am overwhelmed by beauty. It is all around me. It is everywhere. Beauty in my baked beans and beauty in the stubby and bitten fingernails of my husband. Beauty in the candle lit on my table and beauty in the soft fur of my kitty cat. Beauty in the rustling of leaves outside my window and beauty in the still silence of the night air. Beauty in the colors of my tablecloth and beauty in my old tennis shoes sitting by the door. Wherever I look, there it is. This beauty is swallowing me whole. I am becoming intoxicated by it.

This is a moment of worship.

So much of my life I have been TRYING to be with God. Trying to figure it out and trying to do it better. Trying to hold on and trying to let go. Trying not to slip. Trying not to fall. Trying to keep up. Trying not to get left behind. Trying to do it right. Trying not to do what is wrong. But…maybe it’s not about trying. Maybe it’s not about figuring it out. Maybe it’s just the opposite. Maybe it’s the trying that has become my focus. Maybe trying has actually fooled me into missing what’s right there in front of me. Maybe my trying has actually suffocated me from the air I need to breathe.

For the past couple of days…maybe weeks, I haven’t been trying so hard. And…it has been both weird and wonderful. I think I am starting to understand what it means to pray without ceasing. I think it has something to do with seeing and being.

I feel like I have these eyes that are just opening for the first time. Opening to all the wonder around us. Opening to the stories. Tonight I was thinking about how there is a story in each moment. A story in every step. A story in every sigh. A story in every breath. I sometimes think I would like to write a novel. I often think this after seeing even just a little bit into someone’s story…even my own. But, as I was thinking tonight I was struck that there is so much more story going on all the time than could ever be captured in a book.

I don’t want to spend my life living in the illusions of this world. The illusion of success. The illusion of possessions. The illusion of fitting in. The illusion of control. The illusion of trying. I want my eyes to see clearly. To see clearly the truths of Christ and His love and glory. I don’t want to live under the burden of my own invitation of all that this world has to offer into my life.

I really love the spring. There is a magical beauty to spring. When the whole earth is coming back to life, I can’t help but feel it in my veins. And I am reminded once again that I have also been brought back to life. I am continually being brought back to life.

2006-04-03T20:08:00.000-07:00

What an unbelieving world finds unbelievable

In case you didn’t already know, the title for this entry is not my own, but a line from a DC Talk song. I first heard this song in high school when a boyfriend of mine put it on a mix for me. I thought it was a clever little play on words when I first heard it, but didn’t really give it much thought at the time. Well, as I sit here tonight, it seems a very fitting title for what I intend on writing about.

I’ll just get right to it. I am really struggling with church. Especially after this past Sunday, but in general, I am struggling with church.

Growing up my family always attended a United Methodist Church; one in Bay Village, one in Lakewood, and one in Symmes Township. The one in Lakewood was my favorite. It was this really big beautiful old church. The inside was all dark wood with really tall vaulted ceilings and HUGE stainglass windows. Before I really knew Christ, I can remember feeling Him in that church. I remember one Sunday, it might have been Easter I can’t really remember, but on that one Sunday I remember singing a hymn and looking at the beautiful windows and feeling so overwhelmed by beauty, by truth, by love, that I cried. I remember just standing there, not really understanding what I was feeling, with tears running down my face. I really like that memory. It was so real. So authentic. So mysterious. So tender.

I remember going to vacation bible school at the church in Bay Village. I remember teepees where we made crafts. I remember getting a jelly doughnut every Sunday in fellowship hall after the service. I loved those doughnuts. I remember getting a bible with my name in the front cover. I really treasured it and felt it was something very special. I used it up until about 3 years ago.

We didn’t get very involved at the church in Symmes Township, so I don’t have much to say about it.

When I was in high school I started to get to know Jesus. I was introduced to him by Young Life. I desired to have a church to go to. My junior year I found out about this church in Cincinnati called The Vineyard. A couple older kids from YL went there and said it was really cool. So, one Sunday my friend Katie and I got directions and drove there. We didn’t really know what to expect. But, we loved it. It was something totally new for me. I saw all these people who looked like they really wanted to be there. There were a couple guys standing out front smoking before we went in. The songs we sang made me feel alive. The guy who got up to talk to us seemed a lot like someone I might just run into on the street. He had love in his eyes. I kept going back.

After a couple of months my whole family started going there. At first they were a little leery, but it didn’t take long for it to grow on them. I really love that church. I have been embraced there. I went to college only 45 min from home, so most Sundays I would drive to The Vineyard. A few of my parents friends started going there too. My mom still goes with her boyfriend Pedro, and when I am home I try to always make it a point to be there.

So, what’s the struggle?

Well, the struggle is that in the past four years (since I have lived in Chicago) I have attended well over 10 different churches and I feel lost. Many of those we attended regularly for 6 months or more. So, not many people read my blog, but I’m sure that this would be the point where people might want to point the finger at me and say, “you’re not supposed to go shopping for churches, there is no perfect church, the problem is with you not the church, you need to stay committed and get connected, you’re a fickle bastard.” The funny thing is that I actually say all these things to myself.

About six months ago Dan and I decided that the church we were attending (which we really liked accept for the fact we had to watch the message on video cast) was too far from the community in which we are ministering and we were going to find a closer church and just commit to it, NO MATTER WHAT! Both of us were growing weary and frustrated. So, we picked one of the 1,000,000,000 churches in Wheaton and went cold turkey (no more church shopping), which brings us to the present.

Last Sunday. It started off as a really bad day. We’re watching some dogs that are really sweet but they got into the garbage and dragged it all over the house. UGH!! Well, Dan and I did finally make it to church without killing each other or the dogs, but barely. We enter and find our seats, which may I note is one of my favorite parts about going there. We know exactly where we like to sit and no one is EVER in our seats. Anyway, we enter, take our seats and start to worship. The worship team leads us in one of the 20 songs we sing at church, any of which can be heard on K-LOVE 20 times a day. To be honest, it’s not the song choice that I have a hard time with, it’s the way it is lead by the worship team. Same huge smiles EVERY WEEK. Same hands raised EVERY WEEK. Same sway and intense look of devotion EVERY WEEK. This is what an unbelieving world finds unbelievable. Forget an unbelieving world, this is what a believing world finds unbelievable.

I decided not to sing and instead to watch the little girl in the seats in front of us. She was turned around staring at us. She was probably about 3 or 4. She had beautiful chestnut hair that was silky and straight. Her eyes were huge, and enchanting. She looked around with such wonder in her eyes. Her smile was curious and cunning. She kept ducking behind the seat so I couldn’t see her, and then she would pop up and giggle a little bit as I caught her eyes. Now here was a reason for worship. The beauty of this child made me love God more, made me want to know God more.

So, I’m struggling, but I’m getting through. Then like a ton of bricks falling on my soul I see this high school kid walk by with a sweatshirt on from the Youth Group retreat a couple weeks earlier. On the back I see in huge letters, “…go talk to firewood.” You might not understand, which I hope you don’t. A couple weeks earlier I was at a Youth Pastor Fellowship meeting. The youth pastor from the church I attend was there. He’s a pretty nice guy but always seems like he’s had just a bit too much coffee…OK actually more than just a bit too much. Anyway, he started sharing about his youth group (too much info I’ll have to put it in another entry). But, one thing he shared was that he just got back from a youth retreat where he taught the kids about how they must get better at talking to their friends who are firewood because they are going to burn in hell. I’m not kidding. Not kidding at all. I wish I was. I really really wish I was. I must say that at the meeting I was taken aback by his flippancy and lack of compassion, but I was TRYING to give him the benefit of the doubt.

UNTIL…I see this kid walk by at church with this sweatshirt on. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? Who writes that on a sweatshirt. Who writes that on a sweatshirt and THEN gives it to high school kids to wear around??? “GO TALK TO FIREWOOD,” What an unbelieving world finds unbelievable.

When I saw the kid walk by at church, my jaw dropped, literally. I couldn’t get it to go back in place. I just stood there with my jaw on the floor. Then, I cried. I couldn’t help it. I’m a pretty emotional person. I didn’t feel it coming, but the floodgate opened and the tears came and they couldn’t stop. I was crying for a lot of different reasons. I was mostly crying at this misrepresentation of God’s heart toward unbelievers. Firewood? That was a really hard moment for me, but it was also a moment of grace. Many times in these kind of moments I wonder, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just go with the flow more? Why don’t I fit in better with this Christian culture? But…in that moment I heard the whisper of the holy spirit. That whisper said to me, I love you. I love you just the way you are. I love your sensitive heart. I love that that makes you cry. It was a beautiful moment.

I come to the end of this entry without any real answers. Without knowing where I should or will continue to go to church. I am honestly confused. And, I am saddened at how many parts of the Christian culture and unbelieving world finds simply unbelievable.

I just needed a place to process and get this all off my chest. Thanks for listening.

2006-03-08T20:54:00.000-08:00

The Mystery

About a week ago I turned 26. I really like birthdays. I especially like my birthday. Each year I try to prepare myself that it will be just like any other day. Each year I try not to expect a surprise party, or being showered with presents. Yet, each year I can’t help but wake up really really excited and throughout the day wonder what treats might be just around the corner. Luckily I have some really nice friends, a truly romantic and thoughtful husband, and a mommy who remembers to send wrapped presents so that they arrive right on your birthday.

I once read something by Henri Nouwen (definitely one of my favorite authors) about how important he believes that birthdays are. We live in a culture that celebrates only the worthy. Our culture celebrates success. Our culture celebrates accomplishment. Our culture celebrates achievements. The one possible exception to this is the celebration of birthdays. When we celebrate someone’s birthday, we are celebrating the fact that he or she is alive. We are celebrating them for just being them, not for having achieved anything. We are celebrating them in the way that God celebrates each of us every day. I think that is part of the reason why I like birthdays so much. It just feels so good to be loved in that way.

Something that I can’t seem to figure out no matter how hard I try is why God loves us. If I had to sum up the entire bible, I think I would say it is the story of God’s desperate love for his children. But, I still don’t really know why God loves us. You know, I actually don’t think most people, including me, really live out of a belief that God loves us. I think it’s just too big. Too unimaginable. Too confusing. Too weird. Too mysterious.

Mystery. I think that has been my favorite word lately; especially when thinking about, or praying to God. Maybe lately I have been most in love with the mystery of God. When I think upon God’s mystery, I compelled to fall upon my face. I am so unworthy of His mystery. Yet, he blesses me with little pieces of it each day. To me the mystery of God is in all those things that allow us to taste his infinite beauty, but yet still be left wondering and yearning; seeking and searching.

His mystery is in the sound of a song that reminds you that you are alive; you are alive in a way that there are no words for. His mystery is in the first songs of birds after a long winter of cold silence. His mystery is in the soft fur of my little cat Billy. His mystery is in the way you can look at the face of your spouse after having looked at it thousands of times before and see something new, something more beautiful than you have ever seen before. His mystery is in the scent of rain on a spring day. His mystery is in how some of my happiest times are sitting in my living room talking and laughing with a group of high school girls. His mystery is the tiniest most beautiful flower that was made just for you to see.

There is mystery in every day and each moment. It is there, but sometimes I ask myself where are we?

2006-01-29T15:13:00.000-08:00

Do we believe?

The other night I got into a really interesting conversation with my sister. Before I even get into that, I just want to say how much I love my sister. It’s hard to even imagine life or who I would be without her. She has just always been there. Even though we are really different in a lot of ways, I feel close to her in a way that I don’t with anyone else in the world. I love that Lauren is who she is. I love that she is learning more and more to be more and more who she is. I love that I feel special when I am around her. She’s kind of like a warm blanket on a cold and rainy day.

Anyway, back to our conversation. We were talking about the lack of authenticity in the Christian community of America. It’s something that I have been giving a lot of thought to recently. Mostly as it deals with me specifically. A few blogs back I wrote about the song Yahweh. Since then I have been thinking a lot about my desire for significance and approval from those around me. How much of my life seems to be lived in hopes of being “good enough.” It gets tiring, and there is always a sense that in the end I just never will be. I will never be the best at anything. I will never be as good as I want to be. I will never live even a day without sin. I will never have completely pure thoughts. I will never free from my fallen nature. I will never be the me that I want to be!

As I go down this road of trying to win approval, I am brought back to thoughts of God’s love and approval of me. I am brought to the place where I realize that God is the only one who knows me fully, and the only one who loves me fully. That’s a lot to think about. Do I even believe that? Seriously, do I really believe that? Do you believe that? Does ANYONE believe that?

If I did believe it, why would I live my life trying so hard all the time to prove to everyone that I was good enough and that I deserve their love? Why would I be so consumed by my image? Why would I want everyone to like me? Why would I be afraid to make waves for something I believe in? Why would I be afraid to be open with the areas of my life that are dark and scary? Why wouldn’t I engage in more intimate relationships? Why would I hide from God?

Another question that I have is; does the Christian Church in America believe that? Does the Christian community in America believe that God knows us fully, and God loves us fully? My answer has to be no. Of course almost every church would say that they believe this. But, the reason why my answer is no is because of all the acting that goes on inside of the Church. More that almost anywhere in my life, I’ve felt the pressure to act in church. I think this must be part of what is so confusing to people who don’t know God. They might hear that God knows them and loves them unconditionally, and yet the very people who proclaim this live as if they must hide every part of their lives that isn’t worthy of love.

OK, so here’s my point. As followers of Jesus, Christians should be the group of people in the world that feel and act most freely and authentically because we have assurance of love to the core, and there is nothing we can do to move outside of that love. Doesn’t that make sense? It seems like people that didn’t believe or know that there is a God that loves them fully and unconditionally, would be the ones who would be afraid to be authentic because they would need to PROVE that they are worthy of love. In my experience on this earth, this isn’t the way it works.

WHY????

I ask myself that a lot, especially recently. Why don’t Christians feel free to be real? To fail? To mess up? To fall flat on our faces? To admit that we don’t have it all figured out? To admit that our lives can be really messed up? To admit that we have hurt people and continue to hurt people? To admit that we struggle with all kinds of addictions all the time? To admit that we feel empty? To admit that we aren’t faithful? WHY?

I want to be free. I want to live among a community of free people. Real people.

Something that is kind of funny about me is that I love the show Roseanne. Dan always asks me, why are you watching that show? Why do you like that show? For a long time I couldn’t even really say why. I couldn’t explain it. I mean I think it’s kind of funny but it’s definitely not the funniest show. Recently I think I have figured it out. I love the show Roseanne, because it is refreshingly real and authentic. It is a bunch of people that aren’t afraid to show each other hot messed up they really are. That’s why I like it.

I don’t want to live the rest of my life acting. I am thankful that I have people like Lauren in my life who don’t want me to act and don’t expect me to and love me regardless. I pray for myself and for the Christian community in this country that we might really understand what it means to be known fully and loved fully.

2006-01-17T20:28:00.000-08:00

Monotony

Sometimes life is really funny. Do you ever look around you and find it hard not to laugh. It isn’t that there is anything inherently funny in the scene around you, but just the ironies of life happening all the time around us. That happened just a minute ago for me as I was sitting here at my dining room table reading a book for the class I am auditing at Wheaton College this semester. Anyway, I am sitting here and I look over to my left and see three little sets golden retriever eyes staring at me. All three of them are huddled together just standing there watching me read. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Mostly I was laughing at myself. Laughing at the reality that at the moment my house is inhabited by three golden retrievers, a really fluffy cat, and myself. Laughing at how my friends think I am weird for volunteering to watch two full size golden retrievers. Laughing at the strange comfort I feel at having these dogs snuggled around my feet.

I love that about life. I love how weirdly entertaining it can be. I think that is why I really love the new show “Arrested Development.” Various people have been telling me for months that I HAVE TO WATCH IT!!! Sometimes that kind of thing can actually keep me from ever giving it a try, but for some strange reason my Tivo just started recording it. Seriously, I’ve asked everyone who regularly comes into my house if they set up Tivo to record Arrested Development and everyone swears it wasn’t them, so I guess I was meant to watch it. I’m glad that the Tivo gods decided I needed to see it, because I love it.

Maybe you’ve been reading this blog saying to yourself, what the heck are you talking about, and what the heck is funny about three golden retrievers. I understand if that’s what you’re thinking, because I often feel like I am most free and alive in the weirdest moments of life that other people are annoyed by or think is just stupid. I think that I got this from my dad. Thanks a lot daddy, for making me certifiably abstractly disoriented emotionally. I wonder if there is an official diagnosis for this problem. (I remember in college seeing the ridiculously, hideously, thick, small printed book of diagnoses for psychological disorders. There must be something in there for me.)

So I grew up in a world of imaginative scenarios, and make-believe words. Here’s one of my favorites: When we would be on a road trip and the weather would start looking ominous, my dad would predict our impending arrival into a pig’s belly. Yes a Pig’s Belly. As the rain and wind would start to come we would all yell, “Are we in the pig’s belly yet?” And he would reply, “not yet.” It wasn’t until we would almost be forced off the road by the weather when my dad would finally and emphatically insist that we had officially entered the pig’s belly. He would make no small show about it. Hands waving in the air. Yelps of anxiety ridden excitement. Maybe this was a way for me dad to escape reality, but it became easy and comfortable for me.

So, I’ve found that when watching shows like Arrested Development that I feel a sense of commonality with the world around me. That even if there is a diagnosis for me in that book for psychological disorders, there are other people who could be similarly diagnosed. My husband for example would be one. That is actually something that I thank God for regularly. I’m so thankful that I am married to a man who not only really genuinely appreciates my strangeness, but has a lot of strangeness to add to the world himself. One thing that I always remember my dad saying to me, is that one of his worst fears in the world was being bored. That could explain a lot. But as I take this into my own life I realize a couple things. One, there are worse things in life than being bored. Two, I hate being bored, and I am continually thankful for people in this world who just by living are putting boredom on the endangered species list.

As I have gotten older, (I recognize that 25 is not old at all), I think I have gotten better at letting who I really am live more and more. I like that. And, I like that in other people. I think the boredom and monotony (a better word I think for what I am getting at) comes in as we are so often trying to assimilate, be accepted, make no waves, fly under the radar, keep up with the Joneses.

Just for clarification, I’m not really trying to make any philosophical point with this blog. If I was, I think I’d be in trouble. I’m just putting words to some things that float through my head from time to time.

As I post blogs I really go back and forth between hoping there might actually be some people out there who read this, and hoping that I’m the only one who reads this. Maybe most people feel that way about their blogs. I haven’t yet mastered the art of the blog.

p.s. I just decided to include a pic of RJ with this blog because; 1. I like putting pictures with blogs, 2. I think RJ is one of the lease monotonous people I have ever known. 3. The look on RJ's face is one of complete boredom (that's what spending time with the fam over christmas can do to a 19 year old boy.)

2006-01-07T19:58:00.000-08:00

Stuff

It’s kind of weird to start blogging again, because it’s been awhile and I feel a little out of practice. I think that I need to jump right back in and go for it. I got a new lap top for Christmas. I’m pretty excited about it, but as I explained in one of my previous blogs I’m also a little scared of technology. Anyway, I’m hoping that my blogs will start being more consistent.

My new computer isn’t the only change in my life right now. Dan just started on YL staff this week. It’s pretty exciting for him, and for me. For years he has been following this path that has been so uncomfortable for him. Every day he would wake up and sleepily walk to the closet and put on some stupid collared shirt, tie, and dress pants. Then he would rush out of the house to make it on time to the train where he would get the first of MANY cups of coffee for the day (you gotta get by some how). Then he would make his decent into the hum drum business world of downtown Chicago. He would get off the train and step into the sea of suits and high heels. Everyone climbing the invisible ladder to somewhere that would surely be better than where they were. He would step onto the escalator that would lead to the front door of Performance Trust Captial Partners. He would then walk over to his desk and sit down. He would sit there and look at his computer and his phone, he would stare at his two foot by four foot desk and ask himself once again, just like every other day, WHY AM I HERE??? Why am I spending my life doing a job that I don’t believe in and I don’t even like? Why do I get up every morning to come to a place where I can’t be myself, to a place that sucks the self right out of me?

I wonder if a lot of people sit down at their desks each day and ask that same question. I think so.

Because of Dan’s change in career we’ve had to make some minor adjustments in our life style. We now have a budget that we are following, or I should say trying to follow. I’m not very good at budgets, but I think that it will be a really good thing for us. Anyway, it’s got me to thinking. Thinking about stuff. What is stuff? Why do I have so much of it? Why do I want more? Why am I always comparing my stuff to someone else’s stuff?

I started reading my first Tom Robbins book the other day. It’s called Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates. Lauren told me I HAD to read it, and I usually love her recommendations, so I though I would go for it. I’m only about 50 pages in, but I’m already hooked. First of all, Tom Robbins has to be completely out of his mind, which I LOVE. Secondly, he offers some great thoughts on life amidst the wildly funny scenes he creates. One of these thoughts seemed to jump off the page when I was reading it the other day. Here it is:

“Things. Cosas. Things attach themselves like leeches to the human soul, then they bleed out the wetness and the music and the primordial joy of being unencumbered upon the land. Comprende? People feel tremendous pressure to settle down in some sort of permanent space and fill it up with stuff, but deep inside they resent those structures, and they’re scared to death of that stuff because they know it controls them and restricts their movements.”

When I read this I must admit that it really rang true for me. But, where do I go from here? Do I sell my house and all my belongings, and give away my pets, and … and then …. And then what?? That’s the part where I get confused. Maybe I’m on the baby steps program. I decided that one of my new years resolutions** was to give away more, throw away more, buy less, take less, and bring less into my house. The day after I made this resolution I was reading in 2 corinthians and I found the perfect theme verse for this resolution. It’s 2 Cor. 8:15 “whoever gathered much had nothing left over, and whoever gathered little had no lack.” I like this verse. It’s really simple but it communicates so much. I would like to live by this principle. The problem is the same day I went to the mall with my friend. I was DETERMINED not to buy anything. I was doing really well. Until…(it always seems like there is an until) we went into this one store and I saw this purse that I completely fell in love with. Kind of like how I felt when I met Dan. Just kidding. Anyway, I really needed (I don’t really think I know what need means) this new purse, so I bought it. Should I have? I could live without it. Thus my confusion ensues.

I pray for God’s grace in my life. I ask his forgiveness for my ignorance. And I pray that some day I might better understand what it means to “give away all your possessions”, what it means to live a life free of the stuff that “controls and restricts my movements.”

** I think that new years resolutions are kind of wierd, funny, and stupid. But I also think they are kind of cool because it feels like you get a fresh start to make changes in your life.

2005-11-17T14:55:00.000-08:00

Yahweh

I’ve been in a weird kind of funk lately. I can think of a lot of reasons why I might be in a funk. One is the weather. As much as I love the first snow, I always kind of hate to say goodbye to barefoot days. There is just something about being able to walk outside and enjoy the feeling of the sun on your face and the feeling of grass between your toes. It’s going to be awhile before I feel that again.

Another possible reason for my funk is how crazy busy I have been lately. I barely have time to stop and breath. There is no one to blame for that except for me. It’s kind of strange because it’s not really even that I don’t have a spare moment, but that in each spare moment I am consumed by restless and anxious thoughts. I find that this is a common feeling for people who are in full time ministry. I love Young Life, I love the kids, and the leaders, and all the crazy and fun activities we are doing all the time. I love sitting down for coffee with kids and leaders. But, sometimes I feel like I can’t escape the feeling of burden. Knowing there’s always something that’s getting left undone. Always another person I could be spending time with. That’s when the downward spiral begins.

I have spent a decent amount of time in the past three and a half years beating myself up and feeling like a failure. I get to the point where I almost feel paralyzed by my own fear and guilt. Experiencing these lows has recently brought me to a new place of peace. I have been forced to experience God’s grace in a new way. I have been forced to let God love me even if I am the biggest failure that ever lived. And to be honest sometimes I feel that way.

The other day when I was writing in my journal a U2 song popped into my head. It’s on their newer album “How To Dismantle And Atomic Bomb” and the song is called Yahweh. I personally recommend EVERY song on the CD. It’s one of those CD’s where you can really lose yourself. I’m actually listening to it right now and I am loving it! Anyway, this song Yahweh is really good. There is one line that says, “Always pain before a child is born.” The first time I heard the song that line really hit me, but the other day as I was writing in my journal it started to take on a much more personal meaning.

As I sat there thinking about it, I had one of those moments of clarity. They are rare, but when they happen it is like magic. It’s as if God spoke directly to me saying, “all this pain and hurt in your life, all these feelings of failure that you are dealing with, all of the darkness that you are living in, they are about to birth new life in you.” I think that it is mostly true. I look back on my life, and I think about all the times when I really felt like the old scales were falling off and the new creation was being revealed and it always hurts.

As I was telling a friend about this feeling and experience the other day he related it to one of the Chronicles of Narnia (The Voyage of the Dawn Treader) where there is young boy who is mean to everyone. And the meaner he gets he becomes covered in scales and ends up looking like a dragon. He doesn’t want to look like a dragon and be covered in scales but he doesn’t seem to be able to help it. And then Alsan (the lion “Jesus” figure) comes one night to the boy and slowly but surely Aslan rips all the scales off of the boy. It hurts because Aslan has to use his claws, but by the end he is a boy again and no longer a dragon. I feel like that boy sometimes. It hurts having my scales ripped off, but it’s worth it. I don’t want to live the rest of my life as a dragon.

I think that I will probably spend the rest of my life going through seasons of life that really hurt. Times when I feel unlovable. Times when I feel dark and lonely. Times when I am lost and fearful. But, I do believe that if I persevere in these times that I will slowly become the beautiful creation I was meant to be.

Below are the complete lyrics of U2’s “Yahweh.” If anything I said in this blog resonates with you, stop what you are doing right now, find this song, and listen to it.

Take these shoes
Click clacking down some dead end street
Take these shoes
And make them fit
Take this shirtPolyester white trash made in nowhere
Take this shirt
And make it clean, clean
Take this soul
Stranded in some skin and bones
Take this soul
And make it sing

Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn

Take these hands
Teach them what to carry
Take these hands
Don't make a fist
Take this mouth
So quick to criticise
Take this mouth
Give it a kiss

Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn

Still waiting for the dawn, the sun is coming up
The sun is coming up on the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean

Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, tell me now
Why the dark before the dawn?

Take this city
A city should be shining on a hill
Take this city
If it be your will
What no man can own, no man can take
Take this heart
Take this heart
Take this heart
And make it break

2005-10-21T15:08:00.000-07:00

The Pale Blue Dot

I often find myself making little deals in my head. I do it with a lot of things, but one thing I have been doing it with a lot lately is Dan coming on Young Life staff. As stupid as it may sound, I often find myself daydreaming about all the things I might never have. Things like a lake house, or even a regular house with more than one bathroom, or a new car, or vacations to Hawaii, or the opportunity to not work, or going out to dinner and not worrying about how much the bill will cost, or being able to buy people really nice gifts, or not worrying about how much each item in my cart costs at the grocery store, or paying for college for my kids, or even having more than two or three kids. The list could go on and on.

When I think about all these things, that is when I start to make little deals in my head. Here’s how it works: I see some young mom with her kids riding around in a new SUV. I immediately feel a sense of desire for the car, or that fact she doesn’t work, or both. Then I tell myself, “Meghan, those are worldly desires. The fulfillment they bring won’t last. But, if I keep following God and his plan for my life, I will be more fulfilled than I would be with some new SUV.” I know it may sound kind of dumb, but that really is more or less the way it works. Or the way it did work until my thoughts were kind of turned upside down.

Earlier this week, myself and some other Young Life leaders took a bunch of kids to a concert at Willow Creek (a huge church in Chicago). A funny side note is that Willow Creek is so huge and this concert was drawing in so many people (people were parking everywhere; on the grass, in the middle of the isles, along the street) that as we were walking in, the girls I was with kept saying, “I can’t believe that we are at a church, it feels like an N-Sync concert.” I thought that was funny.

Anyway, we went in and the concert was good, but even better was getting a chance to hear Louie Giglio speak. I guess he’s pretty famous and speaks around the country all the time. So, what he spoke about the other night hit me in a really cool way. He was giving a talk about how BIG God is and how small we are. He did a great job communicating this point through showing a bunch of pictures of space. He showed stars, and galaxies, and the sun, and other planets, and then he showed this really weird and interesting picture of the earth. It is a picture of earth from the farthest away a picture of the earth has ever been taken. It was from like 180,000,000 light years away or something crazy like that. (I’m not really into science, so I can’t remember these kinds of things.)

What was really cool about the picture, which is called “The Pale Blue Dot”, is that the whole earth is literally this tiny tiny tiny pale blue dot. You can almost not even see it on the picture. It gave me a perspective on this earth that I have never had before. I sat there looking at this tiny little pale blue dot and I thought about all the things I worry about, and all my fears, and how I am so self conscious, and all the things I want, and all the SUVs and lake houses and trips to Hawaii. And, it all seemed so insignificant.

Looking at the earth as a tiny pale blue dot, gave me a whole new perspective. It allowed me in a new way to appreciate how BIG and Holy and Awesome God is. He created the pale blue dot, and he knows how small we are (and he still even loves us). It made me think about all the little deals I have been making in my head. Here’s the thing, whether I feel fulfilled or not is really not even important in comparison to God’s glory and majesty. We live in a time where more than any other time we base so much of our theology and life on how we feel, what makes us feel good. It made me realize that if I live my whole life feeling unfulfilled, it doesn’t matter as long as I am living it for God’s glory.

2005-10-16T11:25:00.000-07:00

My Dad

I’ve had this picture sitting on my desk for the last few weeks, ever since I was working on that photo project for my mom’s 50th birthday. For some reason, when I was looking through pictures, this one caught my eye and I pulled it out of the box and left it on my desk. Every time my eyes catch a glimpse of it at the corner of my desk, or under a pile of papers I always pull it out and stare at it for awhile. I still can’t quite figure out why I find this picture so enchanting.

Sometimes I feel so much of my dad alive in me, that there isn’t even room for me. It’s beautiful and somewhat uncomfortable. There’s as much of the crazy as there is the sane. There’s as much of the confident as there is the paranoid. There’s as much of the addiction as there is the simple-mindedness. There is this eternal quality of a person, and I think part of what makes it eternal, is that it cannot die because it keeps living on in those it has impacted.

Last weekend I was back in Cincinnati for a baby shower of one of my college friends. I had tried calling my dad a few times to set up a time to see each other before I left. We kept changing our plans as the weekend went on. Finally we agreed on lunch Sunday at Chili’s. As Sunday came I was feeling really sick and couldn’t meet him for lunch. So I invited him over to sit and talk with me as I lay on the couch. He walks in with an Arby’s bag. He proceeds to sit down and talk to me as he chomps away at his roast been and cheddar sandwiches.

We talked about some great stuff and really connected, but as I drove home later that night it wasn’t our conversation that stuck with me, but more the Arby’s. I’m not kidding or making some joke about the food. When I was younger, I have countless memories of my dad getting Arby’s. (I mean five for $5, who can beat it). Seriously though, there is something about these simple quirks that invokes such a feeling of closeness and intimacy. There are millions of these little quirks that each person has. Some others for my dad is the way he is always rubbing his hand really hard on the arm of the couch (he has carpel tunnel’s, and ruined many an arm of a couch), or the funny way he squints his eyes when he looks in the mirror, or his surprisingly high pitched laugh.

I think that it is these simple things about a person that ultimately make them so lovable. In the speed and business of our lives I think that we often forget to stop for a moment and remember these little quirks and appreciate the people that God has put into our lives. As I was driving home from Cincinnati, imagining my dad from years past in his puffy blue coat eating Arby’s, I felt an intense love rush over me for my dad as tears ran down my face. For so many reasons I could be bitter or angry at my dad (which at times I have been both), but in that moment it was all washed away, and I loved him so much.

It is in these moments that I can barely comprehend the love that God has for us, his unruly and disobedient children. I think that is part of what I love so much about the picture of my dad and I. The image of this big man smiling holding a little girl, full of fear and questions, gives me a sense of comfort. I’m still a little girl full of fear and questions, and even though my dad can’t hold me like that anymore, I know that I have a dad in heaven who can.

2005-10-11T09:06:00.000-07:00

There’s Technology Under My Bed

For any of you out there who might actually have actually noticed that I haven’t posted a blog for awhile, I have meant to, but it has been difficult with not having a computer at home. This posting might help explain why.

There’s a children’s book entitled “There’s a Monster Under My Bed.” I remember reading it when I was young, and since then I have read it while babysitting. The story is pretty much what the title explains. There’s a little boy who continually believes that there is a monster living beneath his bed. He cries for his mom to come into his room proclaiming that he is certain that there is a monster living beneath his bed. Each time his mom enters the room, turns on the light and shows the boy that there really isn’t a monster under his bed, it’s just his imagination. But each time she leaves the room and turns off the light he is once again convinced that there really a monster under his bed.

I can relate with this little boy. Not about a monster under my bed, but about technology. I have an unfounded fear of technology. Not the kind of fear that my grandma has: that using technology is scary, or that the internet is scary. But, more the fear of what this growth in technology is doing to our culture, to our daily lives, to our relationships. I feel like whenever I try to express this fear to anyone it is as if I am that little boy with a monster under his bed. People want to just come in my room, turn on the light, look under the bed and say, “Meghan, how can computers and cell phones and pocket PC’s and TVs really be that bad. They are just helping us do things more easily. They are speeding up the rate at which we can learn and get information. They are for our convenience not our demise. We rule them, they don’t rule us.” From what I’ve seen, I feel that it is much the opposite.

Here’s what I see. I see people slowly becoming more isolated and fragmented than ever. Lives being lived apart from the life itself. Everywhere you look people are running away from their own lives and technology is the road they are using. I see families where each member has their own computer and TV where they spend all their time. I see kids who spend more time in front of their computer screen than with their parents talking. I am in the grocery store, or the airport, or the bank and no longer do I have to deal with the annoyance of actually talking to another person because there is a much more convenient computerized kiosk. I see a whole generation of people being defined by the hours they spend each day in front of the TV. I see the way MTV and other media have warped the mind of a teenage girl into believing that starving herself is the only way she will ever be good enough.

Cell Phones. They deserve a paragraph of their own. I have to tell this story. About a year ago I was with my mom and sister visiting an old friend in her assisted living apartment. Her husband was about to die. She sat with us talking about her life, her marriage, how much she loved her husband, and how afraid she was about his impending death. As she sat there in tears my mom’s cell phone rang….AND SHE ANSWERED IT!!!!!!!!! I was so upset. She’s definitely not the only one to blame. Since when did it become ok to sacrifice these moments of relational vulnerability for some dumb call from my brother asking if he could use the car. Or, on a much less serious note, when did it become ok to answer your cell phone while out to dinner, talking with a friend, in line a the grocery store, at church, in an art museum, and so on and so on. A lot of people get really frustrated and even mad at me for not answering my cell phone. I can understand their frustration, but when I signed up for my cell phone plan I didn’t realize I was also signing up to be available at the exact moment when anyone wanted to get a hold of me.

I definitely understand that there are some amazing things happening in this world because of technological advances. I am also aware that I probably wouldn’t even be in touch with half of the people I am now without e-mail. But that doesn’t mean that all the rest of this stuff is excusable. Through the rapid growth of technology I feel we haven’t taken time to understand it’s role in our lives. We’ve just let it take over. Whether technology is a monster living under my bed, I guess only time will really tell.

2005-09-15T14:12:00.000-07:00

Happy 50th

Last night I realized that I only have one day left before I leave to go back to Cincinnati for my mom's 50th birthday. The problem is that for months I have been planning on making a picture slide show for her as a suprise, and I hadn't even started it yet. So, I decided to gather up all the photo albums I stole from home and head over the Young Life office to start putting it together. It took hours just to go through all the pics, not to mention putting them in order to music.

As I was sitting there last night at 2am, I started to get really sad. For the last couple months I have been doing a lot better dealing with the divorce of my parents. I have gone through so many emotions. The screaming and crying and wanting to just run through a wall. The hate, the anger, and the deep sadness of loss. But lately, I have been better able to accept reality. And then last night somehow I started to get lost in the sadness all over again. It rushed over me like wave. I felt like I was standing on the edge of the grand canyon of memories and I just wanted to dive in head first, but to do so would have been the end of me.

As I looked at so many pictures of my parents when they were young, and all the hundreds of stories, and vacations, and good times, and life shared, it was hard to believe that it could really be over. And that is the strange part about the past to me. I often struggle with the idea of past. How can it feel so real and be so completely over at the same time? How can I taste, smell, and even feel things from the past, yet they are always beyond my grasp?

I loved the family that I grew up in. I loved the laughter. I loved making fruit cakes with my dad at christmas. I loved going for walks together in the metro parks. I loved all the funny voices that my mom would make. I loved something that is gone. And now, I need to learn to love something new.

So, I'm trying to make this picture movie celebrating my mom's life, and in the process not use any pictures of my dad. How am I supposed to remove my dad from 30 years of my mom's life? It's like trying to rewrite history. In many ways I guess that's what divorce is. Trying to rewrite history, like trying to detach yourself from your own life. I can't think of anything that sounds too much more painful. It makes me think of Jesus's commands for us. How often do we see them as restrictive and cumbersome. But over and over again Jesus gives them to us out of love. He made our hearts and knows what hurts them the most. Yet again and again we all turn aside thinking our way will be better. Look how far it has got us.

2005-09-14T08:24:00.000-07:00

BILLY THE CAT

It's kind of funny to me that I am writing my fist blog ever about my cat Billy. Billy is a pretty cool cat. I got him about three years ago. I wanted the fluffiest cat in the world, and that's pretty much what I got. But what I didn't know at the time, is that I also got the smartest and craziest cat in the world. Billy can actally open doors on his own. When I lived in an apartment, he LOVED being outside so he would just sit on our poarch (we lived on the third floor). One day we couldn't find Billy. We looked EVERYWHERE, until I found him down on the ground below. Just sitting there as if nothing had happened. Well, now that we live in a house, Billy always wants to go outside. Billy is a cat that likes to live free and do what he wants. He can open the front door and goes out on his own. How many cats can do that????

I actually see a lot of myself in Billy. Maybe that's why I am so intrigued by him. I know that Billy loves me because at times he'll come up next to me purring and purring. And other times I will want to hold and pet Billy and he just runs away. I think that is how I am with people. Sometimes I really open up with people and show them how much I love them and how much they mean to me. Other times I feel so closed off from everyone and everything, like I am in my own world, and I am just running away. Even more, at times I feel this is the way I am with God. I scare myself. Sometimes it just feels so uncomfortable to be down here on earth all wrapped in skin struggling to understand this life, God, and why I'm even here. I wonder if Billy ever thinks that??

I feel like in some way or another we are all struggling for freedom. I mean wasn't America founded by a bunch of people who more than anything wanted freedom. People now and throughout history have gone to such great lengths to achieve this freedom. And what does that mean. To be free: to be free from worry? To be free from self doubt? To be free from sin? To be free from what the world says we should be? To be free to love? To be free to hate? To be free from the constraints of our culture and society? To be free to be the creations we were intended to be? "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free." Galatians 5:1 Is there any freedom apart from Christ?

So, yesterday I came home from work and unknowingly left my cell phone sitting in the back yard. By the time I realized I had left it there, it was about 10:00pm. I am came outside and picked it up and it was all wet from dew. So I wiped it off on my pants. Then I opened it up, and it was wet on the inside, which I thought was strange, but I just wiped off the inside. Then all of a sudden I realized by smell, that my phone wasn't wet from dew, but because Billy had peed on it. I find this pretty funny, and also somewhat annoying. But, I think that if I were Billy I would also want to pee on my cell phone. I continue to struggle with all these electronic gadgets that are supposed to be bringing us all this increased freedom, when really it seems to me as if we are becoming their slaves.

I want to be free. I'm not sure if on this side of heaven I'll ever totally experience freedom, but I can dream. Until then I will continue to appreciate my cat Billy and how I see freedom expressed in him.