Celebration

The spirit is at work here, now, and in this place. TRUTH

I am reading Home Tonight by Henri Nouwen, it is a book where he discusses the parable of the prodigal son in sweet, dear, beautiful detail. The part I read today was on the discipline of celebration, as when the son returned home the father celebrated! He partied hard!

It reads:

"Celebration is so much more than a party or a spectacle... as a spiritual discipline of love, celebration is, beyond partying and entertaining, a well-prepared meeting of wonderment and friendship. Utilize your creativity to fashion simple "fiestas" to overtly affirm, bless, and lift up a loved one. And when you are the one being celebrated, really try to be simple and receive true nourishment for your unsteady heart."

Celebrating is to Affirm, bless, and lift up!

To be celebrated is to be nourished!

I think of the prodigal son coming home broken, ashamed, falling apart. And the Father celebrates. He brings the best to his son because he is moved by his love, compassion, kindness, and beautiful heart. I as the returning daughter tend to in these moments feel uncomfortable. I disobeyed, I sinned, I did shameful things, but I am being celebrated? Yes, Amen, this is the Kingdom of God. For the son who was once dead is now back to life. and we celebrate the LIFE.

I want to be one who celebrates well. And invites others to celebrate me. A friend recently has invited me into a communal way to celebrate consistently and passionately. And I will enter in as an act of discipline, as an act of worship.

I will celebrate.

Paying Attention

I am reading The Attentive Life by Leighton Ford right now and here is some richness from it:


"As you learn to pay attention (to God), it makes a difference in the here and now.


You will see things you have not seen.
You will be more fully alive.
You will experience life in its depths.
You will be more rooted, less rushing.
You will be a more whole and loving person.
You will live before you die."


I long for that. My prayer is that I may hear, see, feel, taste, smell, and know God. 


for Christ is all, and in all. Colossians 3:11

Wisdom

At church last Sunday, at Bethany, Richard Dahlstrom spoke on Psalm 127. Psalm 127 has the lovely verse, "Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain." 


Richard encouraged us to ask God for wisdom in our lives. Wisdom for us to know God's timing, and God's means of building our house (that is our life). There are so many ways I need God to build my house. I am one of those people who once I get a vision of what I think God is doing in my life I go for it full force. I am not wise in my timing, nor am I wise in waiting for God to give me the means and resources to go for it. 


I am a poor waiter. I don't like waiting. I like doing. In the waiting all of my hopes, longings, fears, and wounding comes up. Which I firmly believe is where God wants to meet me, but I am so afraid to sit in it.


The other day I felt drawn to read Proverbs and I turned to Proverbs 8. (Note: I am not a Proverbs girl, I am a Psalms girl, so this was clearly an act of the Spirit). Psalm 8 is about how wisdom calls out to us. It personifies wisdom as one who calls out in the street for people to hear her. I sometimes feel this is not true. I feel what is "calling out in the street" is confusion. But I need to believe and I will choose to believe that wisdom is there with me, calling out for me to hear, calling out for me to have discernment and good judgement. 


Verse 33-36 in the Message says: 
"Blessed the man, blessed the woman, who listens to me, 
   awake and ready for me each morning, 
   alert and responsive as I start my day's work.
When you find me, you find life, real life, 
   to say nothing of God's good pleasure.
But if you wrong me, you damage your very soul; 
   when you reject me, you're flirting with death."

Wisdom brings life and goodness. Rejecting wisdom brings damage to our souls. I know this to be true, how damaged I have been by the lack of wisdom in words and actions of others. I long to bring life to myself and to others. I long to bear fruit and hope. I long to sit in the hard places, to wait and listen for wisdom, and then to act on it. And the hope in it all is God is working for me all the time. "For He gives to His beloved even in his sleep" Psalm 127: 3 NASB. May it be true for me. 

Pentecost

It is pentecost! I remember growing up catholic, pentecost was a beautiful time of spring flowers, baptismal water, incense, and beautiful colors across the cross.

But I don't think I ever understood it. I never understood the celebration. I knew Jesus was risen, but did I fully take in he came back and walked among us for 40 days, and then ascended and 10 days later gave us the Spirit.

I want to take that in.

I want to read and remember who Jesus is, and how that inspired the apostles to live. And how that can inspire me to live.

Some things the catholic church really gets right. Celebrating and acknowledging pentecost is one of them. Traditions and remembrance is valuable because we as people are so forgetful. I am going to celebrate and remember, who's with me.

Brave and Genuine

Two things I long to be are brave and genuine. I feel God asking me to hold both of these and allow him to work them into me through obedience.

The opposite of being brave and genuine is being fearful and fake. Wow, I am often more fearful and fake than brave and genuine. I also feel to be genuine you need to know who you are. I used to know so firmly. Then deep sorrow and loss has entered my life. And I resisted processing because of my anger at God. And in that I have been fake, and not lived into who I truly am.

Today I was hanging out with high schoolers with special needs and I felt memories of my little buddy who passed away last year and my heart ached for him and his family. I remembered these beautiful memories of reading Puppies in the Snow, labeling body parts, teaching him to go potty in the toilet. I dreamed about him the other day and it was so real I forgot the reality of his loss.

This memory reminds me of my desire to push God away, but also a memory that shows me more of who God is and I am. God loved the little guy. God loves me loving him. God loves me being brave and genuine in facing the loss and brokenness of this world. People should not die. Sitting in the pain and devastation of loss is being both brave and genuine and it further shapes me into the woman of maturity that God wants me to be.

What a gift life is. What a gift children with special needs are to me. I see a joy in them that I see no where else. But to engage the joy, I now have to engage the loss. My call is to be brave and genuine.

What if I am not like Mount Zion?

Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount Zion,
   which cannot be shaken but endures forever.  Psalm 125: 1


This passage caused a visceral gut response of "Really God?"


I am afraid. I am afraid if I loose heart (which I often do) I will not become a beautiful strong mountain. It is funny. I feel so broken often I feel more like a puddle. But God says because I trust in him I am like a mountain. 


What if "strength" and "enduring forever", and "not being shaken" looks different than what I think it does. What if vulnerability and longing are where I become strong. I am still so fearful. Afraid to say what I mean, afraid to truly be known by God and others. Because what if I am rejected, would I still be strong? Not shakable?


I find I hold tightly to my longings and I don't allow them to be known, because what if I never have them? I would be weak, right?


But maybe, just maybe I would find my strength and identity in a God who can hear my longings, hold them, and offer me strength. He can hold me firm. He will not allow my identity to be shaken by this world. 


I am a mountain. I am strong. I am able to hold deep loss and grief and deep joy and hope. I am unshakable. Yes, yes, let this be true of me, and true for us all. 

Love you body

I have decided to make a choice to love my body instead of hating it. American culture tells women they need to be a certain way to be beautiful. But I want to stand against it and love my body for what it is, what it will become, and the ways it blesses me everyday. What a delight it is to have strong legs to carry me through my day, and arms capable of lifting whatever I need. To have a voice to sing, and freckles to make me unique. Today I am choosing to love it all.

Anne Lamott is one of my inspirations to make this choice.

http://bcove.me/ee7z4jxi