Quiet

It's quiet in the house. The dog is sleeping, and the only sound is the faint whirring of fans as they cool the room, our computers, and occasionally, the fridge. Plus the sound of my typing. And of course my ever-present tinnitus.

When it's quiet, sometimes my thoughts race as I wonder or even worry about what is to come. Sometimes I do something to fill the void: write a grocery list, play music, anything but be silent in my own thoughts. Other times, though, like this time, I tune into what I'm thinking about and set it aside in favor of experiencing this moment, this one fleeting experience, and enjoying it. I feel the rhythm of my breathing, and I remain present in that rhythm, being grateful for the breath of life. I see patches of sunshine come in their brilliance, and pass behind clouds, hiding the sun's rays in a cloak of water droplets. I marvel at how everything seems so still when the Earth is actually hurtling through space at thousands of miles per hour; it is a miracle that we do not fly off the face of the planet. I tune into my spirit and notice that today, it is content. I am grateful for that contentment.

Photo "Sun Ray Behind Dark Clouds"
by Sura Nualpradid at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Sometimes my husband will comment on something that he has seen or learned, and we discuss it. Time with him, when he is truly present (like now) brings such peace and joy to me. I enjoy his company, which, although it sounds trite, rarely has need for words, but we talk anyway.

I hear the footfalls of my daughter as she awakens to another day. I wonder if she will be in more or in less pain than she was yesterday. She is never totally without it. Once, that realization troubled me deeply, because I had an unhealthy need to fix it; now, I am amazed and inspired by her courage and tenacity. She has taught me about so many things just by living them in her life: acceptance, tolerance, maturity, friendship, and more. I am grateful for her quiet, indomitable and yet vulnerable spirit.

I think about my friends. I am amazed by their patience with me as I have been so busy juggling career and school that I have rarely had enough (sometimes not any) time to spend with them as I would like. I know they support me in my chosen path - which means a great deal to me - and I hope to have a bit more time to spend with them as my work life comes to a close and I can concentrate more on school without that added burden of making a living. I have missed our times of fellowship together. With COVID-19 restricting our movements the last few months, I have become acutely aware of the effects of prolonged isolation even on a confirmed introvert like me. How awful it must be for those who need social contact to feel complete! They must feel like they are running on empty all the time! It firms my resolve to reconnect with my friends, one at a time, even though the chief health officer has deemed that it must be at a distance... so no hugging. 😞

The puppy has awakened now, and is letting us know there is a delivery person at a neighbour's house. The silence is broken, but I am left with a sense of calm and peace that remains with me.

I like that feeling.

Thanks Giving

Our family celebrates Thanksgiving twice a year: once on the 2nd Monday in October (or thereabouts) and once on the 4th Thursday in November (or more likely, the Saturday right after that.) 

Thanksgiving is huge at our house, especially when it comes to food. There's turkey with all the trimmings (dressing, carrots, squash, mashed potatoes, gravy), two kinds of pie, and usually we like to share our "groaning table" (and when we are done eating we sure ARE groaning) with one or two other people.

We take some time to share the things for which we are most grateful - family, friends, this or that circumstance, and other things that we've been thinking about lately. 

Tips and tricks for preparing for a holiday meal here

There are so many ways to express thanks, to show gratitude for the blessings we have in our country, in our society, in our local area - not just at Thanksgiving, but much more frequently than that. 

People can donate money to a good cause. They can attend a church service and give thanks that way. They can wear a specific color or participate in a fund-raiser. They can organize a community potluck. 

But by far the easiest - and yet the most under-used - way is to just contact someone who is or has done something special, and say, "Thank you." 

That's it. Just a heart-felt verbal expression of gratefulness. What could be simpler? 

Apparently it's very difficult for some folks. The words just won't come! Given the choice between telling someone how much he or she means ... and paying him or her money ... you guessed it. They prefer to pay rather than say. 

My take on that is that the feelings are the most important thing. Expressing the feelings runs a close second. After that, giving someone money - if a person really feels the need to do that - needs to be a confirmation of verbally expressed (or written) appreciation. 

And finally, the other part of thanksgiving is the attitude of giving: giving without any expectation of recompense or reward, no strings attached. Part of the reason so many people dread the holidays is that there are so many expectations - so many you-scratch-my-back-and-I'll-scratch-yours assumptions. Reciprocity is a great idea when it's the idea of the person wanting to repay someone for a kindness done. However, when reciprocity (the expectation of repayment in kind) is the basis for a relationship, resentments can build when one party doesn't meet the other's expectations.

I remember one fellow who was well-known for the parties he had at his home for various members of his social group. I knew this man and so I asked him why he'd never invited us to his place. "Because you've never had us over," was his simple - and quick - reply. His response made me think about the political game involved in giving - a game that is most obvious at Christmas, but which is played every day of the year by so many people. And meanwhile, those who have no self-esteem hesitate to even approach someone else ... but I digress. 

My main point is that there needs to be both thanks and giving in Thanksgiving. 

Every day.

Surrounded

I tried to disappear as the taunts came at me from all angles - a difficult task as I was also trying to go up the stairs of the school bus as quickly as I could. It happened every day after school - some rich kid would start picking on some aspect of my appearance that highlighted how poor I was.

The bus ride was hellish - both to and from school.  The classes weren't so bad; the teacher was in charge and we were not allowed to talk to each other.  But on the bus, in between classes, before and after school ... they were torture.  I felt like I could be ambushed at any moment.  I could never let my guard down.  My best bet was to hunker down and not talk to anyone and I just MIGHT not get targeted ... today.  

And it didn't stop when I got home.  Relatives visiting - a new horror every time - encompassed by know-it-all cousins, and having my faults proclaimed by my parents and me ridiculed in front of their parents - their parents would soon join in the "fun" with nobody stopping them. I'd start to get angry - or sad - and they'd just laugh at me.

I was surrounded.  And not in a good way.  

I thought of that tonight after I got home from being in quite the opposite atmosphere.  I was in a room this evening with several other people who have done nothing other than accept me for who and what I was, at the very moment that I was that person / thing (without an agenda to fix me!) People who never tried to change me or to manipulate me, who have never ridiculed me, who have always loved me, unconditionally.  Who have been to me (as I have been to them on occasion) what one of our number called, "God with skin on."

Source (via Google Images):
http://silencetherocks.com/2011/04/19/true-forgiveness/

When one celebrates, we all celebrate with him or her.  When one suffers, we all feel the pain.  

The love I experienced at that gathering was like being surrounded by acceptance, by gratitude, wonder, and peace. And it wasn't a church function - but it was a group of people who have come to have a relationship with God, who have come to share their experience with each other, to gain strength and hope from the sharing of it.  

I can't imagine my life without such wondrous friends surrounding me.  It fills me with such a sense of gratitude, of happy bewilderment that such amazing people have embraced me.  I guess being surrounded doesn't have to be such a bad thing after all; it all depends on the company you keep.

Fellow Ship

It's a funny word, isn't it, fellowship?  It can mean different things to different people.  To some it's just an excuse to get together, talk about the weather and the color scheme of the living room, and oh yes, to eat.  We can't forget that.  ;) 

To others, it means congregating on a regular basis to do a set number of rituals and then go home.  I'd look at that as two ships (fellow ships?) passing in the night, no real connection except they're there ... temporarily.  

There are any number of definitions depending on whether a person is outgoing or not, involved in community events or not, athletic or not, and so forth.  

I consider fellowship to go a little - okay, a lot - deeper than that.  It's people of like mind, perhaps with a common belief - or a common problem - preferably (for my own comfort zone) in small groups of no larger than four people - coming together to talk about things that really matter: relationship with God, relationships with ourselves and each other. There's a connection there, it's a safe place to be: no judgment, only acceptance.  Everyone is allowed to feel what he/she feels. The gathering could be in each others' homes, at a coffee shop, at another public, agreed-upon place, and it could be regularly scheduled or impromptu.  There is nothing superficial about it.  

Nobody is excluded on the basis of gender, belief, or other differences (whether visible or not.) And it doesn't have to be in person either.  It can be virtual - whether in social media, over the phone, or via Skype or chat room.

There was a time when I didn't think that such a thing (fellowship as I define it, that is) existed.  I know different now - it just took me a while to find it.  And finding it meant something risky.  I had to become vulnerable - open - willing to be honest about myself, to ask for help.  Time and again I have found in the last three years that when I trust people who are trustworthy, I am surrounded by the love and fellowship for which I so longed when I thought it didn't exist.

Rather than ships passing in the night, I've discovered people who are in the same boat as I am.  The Fellow Ship.

I am so very thankful for my fellow crew-members.  They are there for me, and I am there for them.  After all, we're all in this together.

Community

It's remarkable when we see natural enemies spending time together in harmony and unity ... isn't it.

I remember the time we brought Cody the cat home.  He was 4 years old when we got him. We had a dog, and unknown to us, he absolutely loathed dogs. All it took was one "wuff" from our Shari, then he spent the next few hours under someone's bed.

Until he realized that the dog could not get near him because we had installed a baby gate between the kitchen/dining room and the hallway which led to the rest of the house.  Shari was too short to get over the gate - but he could easily get over it if he wanted.  From that moment on, it was a circus.  He would park his kitty butt down on the floor on the other side of the gate, and we could almost see him chuckle as he closed his eyes in sheer feline bliss while the dog whimpered and whined just inches away - to no avail.

That was the beginning of a real relationship between the two of them.  They learned to get along, and we could eventually take the gate down without fear that someone would get hurt or "herded" into a corner - or scratched.  The dog even learned to hold still while Cody washed her fur.  To be sure, they weren't the best of bosom buddies.  But they did learn to appreciate each other.  And when Cody passed away last fall, Shari moped around the house.

People have been known to rise above their differences and embrace each other - if not as friends then certainly as "good enemies."  There's a group of people I like to get together with on a regular basis.  The members of this group are as varied and diverse as the cat and the dog - yet there is a cohesion, a sense of unity and community that is extremely compelling.

What holds this group together is not the differences in it but what is the same about each of the members.  And that sameness of purpose, that commonality of emotion and experience, binds us together.  

I've been in other groups where the unity is gone and people are at each other's throats over differences of opinion or style, differences in philosophy, hidden agendas, and struggles for recognition or power.

The difference - as I've come to understand it - is gratitude - a lifestyle of gratitude for the love and the sense of community that each person contributes to the whole.  Celebrating rather than trying to fix each other's 'differences.' Respecting each other's needs.  Building each other up to be comfortable in our own skin.

That's so worth it!

Loving God, Loving Each Other

There's an old Gaither song that goes, "Loving God, loving each other, making music with my friends...loving God, loving each other, and the story never ends."

If I had to choose a social activity I enjoy the most, it's jamming.  I come from a musical family.  We sang with each other all the time.  Everyone in my family could play the guitar and sing.  Mom could even play the piano - took lessons at one point enough so that she could play hymns if need be.  I took lessons too - but only for a short time.  (Long story, not gonna go there today.)

I started playing the guitar when I was 10, more to have something to share with my brothers than anything else. Dad had an old Barrington guitar with the strings about 1/4 inch from the fret board (OWCH!) and he said that if I was serious about learning, I could learn on that.  Deep breath.  "Okay."  And I was stubborn enough to want to "show him" - and I did.  But whenever I could I used to play my brother's guitar when he was out.  Then I'd put it back before he got back.  Usually that worked. 

I won't go into a big long history but the times I spent jamming with family and friends, whether for church or just family gatherings, were some of the best memories I had growing up.  It was the one time nobody was angry with anyone else.  That carried through to my times of ministry after I got married and moved away.

Once in music ministry the "jamming" times got reduced to "worship team practice."  I do love to worship God and I enjoy being in ministry... but I'll be honest here.  Often times I could easily go home before the service because my soul is so nourished by the music practice alone.  What starts out as a technical practice turns into worship all by itself - and I do feel gypped when it doesn't happen. Music is an effective vehicle to reach the heart, and the heart must be involved for true worship to happen.  I especially love it when the Spirit moves us and everything flows as if we'd done this all our lives.  That happens in services too - which is mostly why I stick around, I guess.  You never know when God is going to show up.  It's really cool when He does!

But sometimes things can get into a routine, you know?  So when someone suggested to hubby and me recently that we go over to his house for a jamming session with some of our mutual friends - we hesitated (well, because we're introverts) but then said, "Sure!"  

We had such a blast! We brought the heavy keyboard to the basement from where it sat in the living room; the sound system was set up down there for the instruments, etc. It was great to get together and play and sing together, we must have been at it for over 2 hours.  Wow.  It sure didn't seem like that long.

And something else happened during that time too.  Something that often isn't on my radar. 

Fellowship.

Oh I am NOT talking about what PASSES for fellowship (you know, small talk over a pot cluck - er - pot luck).  This was a communing of spirits united in worship of God.  At the end of the evening we had grins all over our faces, happily winding up cords and putting the keyboard back where it belonged, talking amongst ourselves.  One person told us that she had been involved in music for a long time but that this was the first time she had ever just "jammed" with a bunch of other musicians / singers.  "It's so much FUN!" she giggled.  

Knowing chuckles came from around the room.  We weren't laughing AT her; we were remembering when that same realization dawned upon each of us.  After the evening's activities, we all felt strengthened, uplifted - yet each of us was surprised by it, amazed by it, and determined to get together again.   

No wonder.  

We'd dipped into the pool of inner strength called "the joy of the Lord."  And it's only found in His presence.  He said, "Wherever two or three of you are gathered in My name, there am I in the midst."  The same thing happens when we just sit and share with each other the great things God is doing in our lives, without judging, without trying to fix the other person, just being grateful for what God is doing.

Whether we can sing or play an instrument or not, enjoying God's presence is what we were hard-wired to do. It's what He planned all along. 

And He loves it when a plan comes together.

I Have to Give

From the moment one joins a religious organization or a similar service group, one hears about how one has to give.  Give, give, give.  "You HAVE to give!" (pronounced HAF-to). One is told that it is selfish to hold back, to refrain from giving.

In principle I agree.  However, there are a couple of provisos, a few quid pro quos.  

The idea that "we can accomplish so much more as a group than we can individually" has merit, but the tendency is to do nothing that doesn't involve more than two people... or have the approval of the whole group.  So instead of (let's use the example of my trying to reach people with the message of the church) sitting with my co-worker over coffee and really listening to her, opening my heart to her and praying for her, I invite her to church where (I reason) she'll get "all of that."  Well ... in many cases she won't.  She won't even come.  She won't come because I didn't show her that she mattered to me.

Hello!

The early church had sort of the same problem.  Jesus had told them that they would be His witnesses, in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the uttermost part of the earth.  

They had Jerusalem nailed.  But that's (with rare exceptions) as far as it went.  

As an aside to this, even within Jerusalem they couldn't just put a sign on the front lawn and invite people to come to church, take an ad out in the local marketplace paper or whatever - stand on a street corner.  The church was for believers.  Believers ONLY.  The conversions weren't happening inside the body but OUTSIDE, where people rubbed shoulders with their co-workers, relatives, and friends.  Hm.

But I digress. The church in Jerusalem was starting to turn into a megachurch.  Thousands of members all meeting in each others' homes - in cell groups of course, to avoid detection by the authorities.  They developed the beginnings of a church governmental structure.  Discussions were about who was allowed to be a member and who wasn't (Jews versus non-Jews.  Remember - Christianity was originally a Jewish sect!!) - what the non-Jews were required to do and not do in respect to the observance of the Torah.  Spirits were high; miracles were common - and people started to get comfortable. There was "safety in numbers" and with an increase in numbers comes a certain feeling of entitlement. 

Enter persecution.  James the brother of Jesus - beheaded.  Stephen stoned to death.  Saul of Tarsus making it his personal mission to see as many people recant this new sect as possible - dragging them before the magistrates, separating families, being complicit in their deaths - not just him doing this, but the Romans who were in Jerusalem too, under orders from the same lecherous Herod who had John the Baptist AND James beheaded.  

And then a funny thing happened.  The church splintered.  It wasn't a church split like so many we hear about today where a group gets all huffy over some innocuous thing - and walks out.  No - people had to move away from home to get away from the heat and protect their families from the authorities. 

For the purposes that Jesus  had intended, it was the best thing that could have happened to them because ... they took their faith with them.  It was such a part of them that it oozed out of them as they went about their daily routines.  Neighbors, friends started to come to believe in Jesus - why?  because the cell groups formed a committee, did a program to feed the hungry and organized evangelistic crusades? No - because they cared for each other, and they cared about people with whom they interacted every day.  Their LIVES spoke for them, and people were hungry to have that kind of life.  People wanted to HAVE what these Christians HAD... because they definitely HAD something!!

Which brings me to my point.  Yes, I have to give.  But I have to HAVE to give.  If my faith is not making a difference in my life in a real way, if it's not motivating me to be grateful to God and to seek His will in my own decisions regarding my own stuff, then nobody's going to see that I HAVE anything they want.

The (western evangelical) church is often too quick to push people into service.  Get'em "saved", shove'em into ministry right away.  Keep'em busy. Tell'em they SHOULD live right, SHOULD walk with God, SHOULD pray, SHOULD tell the world, SHOULD feed the hungry, SHOULD .... fill in the blank.

What about learning how to live, how to walk with God?  how to pray?  how to give God what belongs to Him (and not just money)?  That's how I can have something that's worthwhile to give away - because it's true: "you can't give away what you don't have."  One reason for that is that nobody will want it.  It's like someone with cavities ... advertising toothpaste! (Switch brands?  are you kidding me?)

Then when I learn to do all those things in my relationship with God, it will automatically overflow into all my daily decisions.  Including the ones I make surrounding who I hang out with.  And I'm sorry folks, but although the accepted interpretation of "come out from among them and be separate" is that I am more "safe" hanging around with church people, that's not my interpretation at all - and definitely not my experience.  I prefer being around people who KNOW they're broken, who KNOW they can't live the way that God intended without help and who don't sugar-coat it.  I've learned a LITTLE bit about how to live, how to walk with God, how to pray and so forth (something I'm afraid I had to go outside the church to learn, but that's another bunny trail) and so I want to be with people who are honest enough to admit that they (like me) don't know it all.  But we're willing to learn.

And as I learn HOW to live life, I find that I have [something] to give.  So I do, not because I HAF-TO but because I HAVE [life] to give ... in whatever moment God brings me to.

Sick, sicker, better

As 2011 dawned I awoke with a scratchy throat, which I thought was nothing... until it got worse. I traced it back to talking to a person on New Year's Eve day who had been sick with this cold that's been going around.  Oh great.  Don't tell me.  Oh well, maybe a good night's sleep will .... uh, no it didn't.

So, knowing that I was at that point at my most contagious (and more vulnerable to further attack by viruses and other assorted air-borne nasties including petrochemicals), I stayed home yesterday from church.  I managed to catch some of the service online - but couldn't concentrate long enough to get what the speaker was saying, except that it was (as usually happens in church) about something we "should" be doing (see my series on Shoulds and Oughtas back last summer).  I got to thinking that the world would be a better place if people just got to be friends with Jesus without having to deal with those who call themselves His people.  Myself included, I'm afraid.  I do my share of screwing up, judging, and offending.

Matter of fact, I guess my opinion of church services would shock a lot of church-goers. 

I happen to think that they're pretty useless.  

In many cases they're like the photo to the left - this is a Lego model of a congregation sitting in church.  Impressive to look at - but nothing ever really changes there.  

I am also one of those folks who believes that everything happens for a reason.  Even sickness.  So I was kind of curious as to what God's purpose was in allowing me to catch this &*^$#*!@ cold.  He didn't take long to show me.  I was in the middle of trying to watch this sermon when my Skype icon started going nuts, and I heard my voice notifier say that a friend of mine was online.  Then I got a Skype chat message.  

Over the next hour or more, we talked about stuff.  Important stuff. We shared our stuff with each other, the things happening in our lives, the lessons we were learning. Like I said, important stuff: the purpose of suffering, the importance of being honest, how God uses the wounds in our lives to help heal others.  Near the end of our conversation, my friend said that she felt that the time we spent together was better than most church services she'd been to.  To be honest, I felt the exact same way.

I believe that church can be useful and productive like that too.  

It's just that usually ... it isn't.  

Usually ... it's about someone trying to tell someone else what to do and then judging that person when he or she doesn't succeed in doing it, or doesn't succeed in doing it the way the person telling them would have done it.  

I also think that maybe we need to rethink the way we "do church."  One writer I read a few years back talked about the "industrial model" for church - the idea that churches are factories where Christians are mass-produced from raw material that comes in off the street (i.e., the un-redeemed) and then they pile forth out into the world to bring in more raw materials to be "refined."  But church ISN'T that.  The church is a living organism.  Try to organize an organism and guess what: you kill it .... by a process known by biologists as vivisection.  

I believe that my friend and I were having church yesterday morning.  Each of us knew the other loved her, each not only gave but gained experience, strength, and hope, and each left that conversation feeling refreshed and empowered to face another encounter with the forces of evil, homogeneity, and mediocrity around us.  AND within us.

Food for thought.