Looking forward

Oh, life's a jumble... as usual. A strange, lovely mess.

This week has been one of getting rest, of getting organized, of getting excited.

Originally, Jer and I had planned on taking a January term class this week. We were really looking forward to the class, but we ended up dropping it just before Christmas, sensing that we needed rest (not more books and papers to fill up all the empty space). Seems God knew what we needed.

In about a week, we'll be heading to Dallas (unexpectedly) to spend some time with my mom. Mom has had multiple sclerosis for MANY years and it's become steadily more restrictive for her in a lot of ways. It's a wretched disease, and I'm realizing that I haven't really grieved well over all the moments and memories that it has stolen from my family. Now that I'm aware of that, I intend to listen closely to the Holy Spirit, to my heart, to my family, and to my (several, amazing, wise) companions.

I also intend to not sit on my rear any longer.

Bike riding (for more than fun) has been a part of my life since I was about 12 or 13, though there have been extended seasons where I haven't ridden as much. I'd intended for it to be a major part of my marathon training, as riding become the best prevention for injury. This week, it occurred to me that riding is perhaps the most natural way for me to be more actively involved in the life of my mom, even though we live hundreds of miles apart.

Enter the MS 150.

The MS 150 is not a new event; it's been going on for years - I've just never been in a good place to participate in it. Despite the fact that I've been planning on running a marathon this fall for more than a year now, I'm willing to let that go if need be. Perhaps I'll manage to do both... if not, the riding wins out because it's about more than just my interests.

It's one small way that I can fight for my mom, so here goes...

Christmas Music

You know, sometimes I can get really annoyed at Christmas music. For a decent number of years now, any Christmas-musical sentimentality I have has been tied up in old hymns that remind me what the real story is. (Which is funny, actually, because I spent most of my life despising those dry, boring old hymns for the complete disconnection of belief and action that they represented to me.)

Well... now hymns are anything BUT dry and boring to me, and the Christmas-y ones are no longer confined to Christmas.

Probably about 5 years ago, I got my paws on Your King Has Come, which includes a whole pile of my favorite musicians singing a whole pile of amazing hymns and assorted other awesomes. And in the midst of all the awesomes, I found my favoritest ever Christmas song. Years (and hundreds of listens) later this song still makes me want to dance and cry and be generally absurd for the sheer joy of what God has done and is doing and will do on this broken sphere - and what He offers to the broken souls that walk it.

Without further ado, here's a link to the song:
Jeremy Casella - Joyful Fire

And here are the lyrics (to the best of my understanding):

Bright and shining like the sun
In the middle of a dark, hot night
I was walking through the fields,
I saw it hanging in the sky.

And, oh - some kind of illusion,
I thought I was out of my mind.
This light shone all around me,
It ripped through the dark like a knife -
Just like a knife

There was music in the air
And there was glory in the sky.
I saw an angel of the Lord who said to put my fears aside.
He said, "You've been waiting for a savior,
Well He's born in the city tonight.
You've been walking in the darkness
But you've seen a great light."

And, oh - I swear there were angels
just singing and dancing on high;
This light all around them,
a joyful fire in their eyes.
Oh, love - there was a fire in their eyes.

Oh, love. Oh, love - fire in their eyes

Oh, the righteousness and majesty,
This savior Jesus is our holy king,
Fulfilling every ancient prophecy,
The perfect sacrifice for you and me

So go tell the hungry,
Go tell the poor,
Go tell the widow,
Go tell the broken-hearted,
Go tell the homeless,
Go tell the thirsty,
Go tell the lonely -
the Lord keeps his promises,
the Lord keeps his promises.

* * * * * * *

(By the way, I would highly suggest pretty much all of Jeremy Casella's music. He's incredibly talented and beautifully honest. Check out his website here.)

Favorites

It's not often that I get to cram so many favorites into one day:
- great, but mildly unlikely, company
- sweet bike time
- light rail
- knitting
- crisp, clear, cold weather
- soul-searching
- coffee with Jero (I can have coffee again!)

This day was nearly 2 weeks ago and it's been a bit of an anchor in the crazy. God hears my prayers and responds in most surprising ways.

Mess & Mercy

There are a lot of days where I feel downright uncomfortable in my own skin... when I am acutely aware of the fact that something is amiss. In my heart. In my relationships. In my world.

As many have said before me, things are not as they were made to be... and yet there is beauty, life, hope... a steady tension... the "already and not yet" of the One True God at work.

My life so far has been a beautiful, ridiculous, little part of a much larger, lovelier story. Beautiful because Jesus is making that way... ridiculous because it's such an odd assortment of mess and mercy, belief and unbelief, brokenness and healing, coming and going, learning and forgetting, travelling and setting up camp for a time, and becoming.

Lately, it's felt like the brokenness was winning... physically, emotionally, relationally... i've been an inconsistent (to some, absent) friend, a difficult wife, an impertinent child, a prodigal yet again... i've added a new (minor) injury to my long list (who knew you could bust yourself vacuuming?!)... i've lost track of the things that are most important to me... so it goes...

But here marks a moment where I've been picked up, dusted off and reminded that this is not the end of the story. :-)

Mending Pants & Relationships

365:11

* * * * * * *

There haven't been very many productive days since I got back to Colorado, at least not in the way that I'm used to. I feel a bit aimless without a job or classes at the moment and tend to putter around aimlessly in the morning unless I've made concrete plans the day before. If it's a particularly bad day, the puttering lasts well into the afternoon and isn't necessarily restful. Unfortunately it can be self-pitying puttering, which I hate in myself - a sort of moping without seeking a solution or acting on what I already know to be necessary. Not every day has been like this, there've been more than I'd prefer.

And yet, in this sick-ish puttering, God is somehow at work.

I've been reminded of three things in the past few days:
1) That God's love endures forever;
2) That He will not abandon the work He has begun; and
3) That, while I was still far off (and still sometimes am), Jesus met me and brought me home

I am most certainly a prodigal pilgrim... on a lifelong journey, often returning to God after an absence.

And I'm not just a prodigal in my relationship with God... it seems I am just as much of one with my husband, Jeromie - though we see each other daily, I think we've both struggled to be fully present in this past year. Instead of fighting for our marriage, as we ought, we've taken the easier road of co-existing. Especially in our time as students... cause boy does school demand a lot.

Not good.

But God's been up to something between us in this puttering time... an awakening of sorts, and a conviction and a call: to fight for each other and for our marriage, even when we're tempted to run & hide.

So... if you know us, whether you're nearby or far away, hold us to it.

* * * * * * *

The closing prayer from this morning at Wellspring:
Father of all, we give you thanks and praise, that when we were still far off you met us in your Son and brought us home. Dying and living, he declared your love, gave us grace, and opened the gate of glory. May we who share Christ’s body live his risen life; we who drink his cup bring life to others; we whom the Spirit lights give light to the world. Keep us firm in the hope you have set before us, so we and all your children shall be free, and the whole earth live to praise your name; through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Jeremy Casella :: Recovery

This album has rather quickly climbed near the top of my most-playeds in i-tunes in month or so since I first got my paws on it. Jeremy Casella is now topped only by Chris Thile & U2 (who've been in the library for years). :-)

My first exposure to Jeremy Casella's artful music was at an event where Indelible Grace came to play at Clemson Presbyterian. "Joyful Fire" spoke volumes to me and prompted me to hunt down more of his music. Several years later, he's released an album called Recovery and it is incredible. Incredible musically, incredible in honesty, incredible in diversity with a mix of genres and styles.

The entire album has resonated with me lately, in title and lyrics, as I've found the voice of, perhaps, a kindred spirit - one who knows that God calls us to a living, breathing relationship with Him and with others and that this honesty requires, at times, a wrestling with God, self and story.

In this album, Jeremy Casella has boldly spoken of God and His truth, and of the pilgrim journey we're on.

Once again, I'd suggest *everyone* go get it! :-D

http://www.jeremycasella.com/store/store.html

i'm chile, not argentina

This caboose heater is looking awfully nice right now. If it worked. And weren't in Greenwood. :-)

Thanks to yesterday morning's power outage, the thermostat and/or furnace have decided to go on strike. Jeromie and I woke up to blank alarm clocks (which were not responsible for the waking) & no lights, took showers by headlamp, and wondered about the cause. The power came back on minutes before we walked out the door, and everything seemed fine, so we went on our way. When we arrived home yesterday evening, we heard a clicking noise coming from the thermostat and turned the whole system off. When Jeromie turned it back on, the clicking returned, with no apparent activity from the furnace. Combine that with a cold rainy night and a cold rainy morning and you get a cold sniffly Liz and a yellow lab who has chosen to curl up in a ball on her bed for the duration of the day. I'm hoping it gets fixed soon, as my brain and fingers feel frozen, but in a way I'm glad for the inconvenience.

Lately I've been pretty frustrated at the American bubble and especially the role I play in it. If I'm not intentional about it, life is fairly comfortable and the state of the rest of the world (including the world right down the road from my house) is fairly easy to ignore. Since realizing this, I've been trying to be more mindful but much of the time it takes a swift kick in the pants from God Himself through Scripture & circumstances to peel the scales back from my eyes... scales that seem to grow right back! There is homelessness and dire poverty within a few short miles of my house... and freezing temperatures don't discriminate. There again is the same across the globe and I sit here in relative comfort, able to cook up whatever my imagination settles on for dinner. It's not as if this information is new to me either... perhaps just in a new context.

I know that seeking God & His kingdom first is the best thing I could ever do, yet somehow in daily practice I seem to do nothing more seek my own satisfaction. It makes me sick to see this pattern repeating and yet I don't know what to do to break the cycle but seek the forgiveness that Jesus provides and pray for the help of His Spirit to bring lasting change.

I'm going to go do that.

-------------------------------
P.S. "That makes me nervous" is NOT something you want to hear from the guy who's working on your heating system.

Stirrings

This picture was taken just over two years ago... one crisp, late October morning in 2004. At that point I was driving too long and (most of the time) too early for a part-time job as a lifeguard. It's still amazing to me how time seems to fly and how things can change so slowly and quickly at the same time. At this point, I could wax theological about how God is changeless while I am always changing... and just because I don't doesn't mean He isn't (changeless)... but that isn't what strikes me most at moments like these. (And I am no good at waxing in any form... not even cars.)

I think what is stirring in my heart right now is, perhaps, a fresh realization of His mercy. That stirring itself is by grace alone - the Spirit rising like the sun to cut through the frost that remains in my own heart. I hope and pray for awakening - I've been asleep for too long.

Beginning again...

So I find myself in a both strange and familiar place... strange because it does not fit, it is not right - but familiar because I've most certainly been here before in varying degrees.

This time, I have only just arrived, but I remember vividly the worst of what this place holds.

The air is dry and dusty, and the only laughter is that of the scorching wind as it kicks the dust up into my face. The landscape is flat and changeless. On most days, I get the sinking feeling that there is nothing more - there is no hope for anything more than survival - and I resign myself to that fact. Precious few, I find a glimmer of joy and of purpose, which I cling to as my hope, but these tender shoots quickly wither under the blazing sun. My companions offer little solace as they greedily snatch up the only food this place provides... my stomach rumbles again like thunder and I reach back through the haze of my memories - I have not always been here.

As I sort through my story, I realize this place is a strange mix of exodus and prodigality. I have been through this land on my way to a new Home, but at times I find myself returned & utterly alone. Like the Israelites in the desert, I have wandered here between the slavery I was born into and a new land. Then, like the prodigal son, I have thrown myself into the arms of lesser lovers and found myself here and longing for home. Here again, I return, and each time I return (whether consciously or otherwise), I find that God pursues me even here. As with Israel in the story of Hosea, He gives and He takes away, all to show that HE is the Lord & lover of my soul.

Through all my unfaithfulness, He pursues me. I run and then return - because He pursues me. And I know He pursues me because He is Life, and Jesus died to bring me into real Life & into His family.

So here continues my story... it is most certainly a continuing, not a beginning... of God's mercy and love as He pursues my heart. I pray that my response will be to turn to Him again, not away, as the journey continues.