In my CD Player, my Head and my Heart

This song has been going all week for me. It's comforting and challenging all at once. You can listen to it for free by clicking on play here. I like it because right now I'd rather be hiding out while the battles go on around me and in my mind. I just bought this CD, so the timing is great.

Strap My Hat On by Mitch McVicker

I'm not scared if the monster comes to drag me under
I'll stay right here no i won't turn gone
I won't wonder
I don't care about no weather front if I hear thunder
groan
it will overblow.

Every time arrows fill my fragile skies
veiled behind neon flash disguises
love will rise to my defense
so I strap my hat on
and I lift my eyes when my king goes by
I'm gonna strap my hat on.

The needle's flat but the gage it laughs
a melody in my weakness
I am pushed from stance to heights unseen
till I'm back agin where my armor friend
is cushion peace to get me through
the song rings true...

Mitch

"Quality in art, music, and literature is related tothe passion, excellence, and message it communicates; the honesty and success of the artist's attempts to reconcile the lower story of human experience (pain, doubt, fear, failure, joy, faith, love, success) with the upper story of the divine."
--My dad's facebook profile

I went to a concert with my brother tonight. It was really good. Not because it was fantastic and full of energetic fans. I think half of the audience were kids. There were a lot of kids there. thirty adults maybe. Maybe forty. Not a ton. Two guys on stage. Four guitars, one ukelalie, a couple of bass and rhythm instruments. Good folk-like pop music. Amazing message in the music.

Amazing musician. He wasn't out to impress people or make a statement or get a mass of adoring fans in his following. He wore dirty jeans that were torn, and a tee-shirt with a jacket over it. And socks. One white, one black. I don't know why. He was very unpolished. He did strange things with his recording thingy. He went ahead and sang even though he knew his guitar wasn't quite in tune. And he smiled and grinned through the concert, and afterwards when he stood around and talked with us.

His name is Mitch McVicker. The name might be familiar to some people who know Rich Mullins' music. They were good friends, roommates and musician friends. Mitch was with Rich when he died. I'm not a crazed fan of Rich Mullins, but I've always appreciated him and what he had to say. I appreciate Mitch McVicker and what he has to say too. Check him out. You'll be glad you did.

Toy Recalls

I just got a notice from one of the stores I frequent, informing me of a toy recall. It wasn't something I'd purchased, but, yet again, too much lead in the paint.

It just goes to prove, it's safer and cheaper to let your kids play with crap laying around the house than it is to buy them crap from a store.

Of course, there are always paint chips and window sills to worry about...

Hardened

I've been thinking about many things, but so rarely have time to sit down at my computer and write them all out, although I truly wish I could and would more often. Life has calmed down for me, but there are of course always new challenges. I've noticed how sensitive my soul has become since the loss of my baby.

I've always considered myself a thick-skinned person... insensitive, almost. I wanted to think I was caring, but I often had to force myself to really care about things that affected others so deeply. I remember in youth group when one of the adult leaders passed away, how... hard I felt. I thought it was a strength, so I could be a support to my friends and see a different perspective. But deep down I think I've always known that hardness isn't the most desired trait a person can possess. It often comes from painful experiences and relationships. I've never been very emotional, so it's been easy to mistake that personality trait with my hardness.

There have been some times when I've realized how callused I am. And I haven't ever known how to change it. I didn't necessarily want to be that way, but it has worked for me. It's been OK. But OK isn't always really OK. And hardness certainly isn't OK for someone who wants the love of Christ to live and move in her life. When you're hard, you don't notice softer things. You don't feel the gentle tugs for compassion and goodness that pull at your heart. You might conciously see something happening, but it doesn't affect you, even when you want it to. And that's what I've been like for so many years.

I remembered recently that before this recent trial, I prayed that God would break me. I can't remember the thought process behind it, but I remember thinking about the hardness I have, and how it was making certain parts of my life difficult. I realized that the combination of hardness and being unemotional wasn't working, that it was making me proud. So I asked God to break me.

I don't know if it was all working together or not, and I certainly don't think God let this happen for that specific reason. But, nonetheless I am finding that these experiences have torn away a layer of stone that sheltered my heart. I think it's been good. It's let me share in others' pain in a way I never used to be able to. It's allowed me to cry over small things and big things, and not feel like I need to hide. It's made me stronger, and it's given me a fellowship with God's heart that I never knew was possible. There's a newness in beauty and innocence and love now, and I think, despite what my training and instincts tell me, I want to embrace it and know softness again.

Things too Wonderful

"I know that You can do everything, and that no purpose of yours can be withheld from You. You asked, 'who is this who hides counsel without knowledge?' Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know."
JOb 42:2-3

Do me a favor. When something bad happens to someone, don't tell them, in the midst of their grief or the aftermath of it "God just had something better". It puts that person in an awkward position. It doesn't make the pain go away.

I've had a lot of well-meaning people (bless their hearts) say that to me in the last week or two. It really grates against me. Because I know the whole Romans 8:28 thing that God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love Him, but at the same time, I find the "God had something better" to be incomplete theology. Because it doesn't say He works things together for the better of those who love Him. And this world is so broken that you can't guarantee better. At least not by our standards. Of course by His standards and His ultimate purpose and His sovereignty, there is always better. But right now when someone says that, I just think, "what would better be for me? Better than what? Better than my baby girl?" I mostly just nod my head when people say that. It grates against me wrong. I don't think that He let my baby die because He had something better in store (at least not for me). It doesn't comfort me. It makes me restless. It makes me want to argue with them.

I believe that He has other things, wonderful things, in store for us. And I believe that He will accomplish His good pleasure. I believe that He's good and right and just and loving. But I don't believe He intended the world to be like this, so broken and hard. I certainly don't believe
He lets bad things happen to people for the purpose of something "better". I think it hurts HIm just as much as it hurts us and probably more. But still the same, He does let bad things happen, and it's a hard thing to accept. We comfort ourselves by saying His purposes will be accomplished and all of the other Christianese jargon people say. And I know it's true if it's in the Bible. But He didn't create the world to be this way. Sin creates an absense of goodness and sin breaks and twists what God made to be good.

Still you can't help but fight through all of the questions it raises. But I've fought through them before this, when my life was at peace and I just couldn't help but wonder. And I don't have great answers but I can take comfort in believing that He does have a plan, and He does watch what's happening and is intricately involved in what goes on in my life. And he cares about the little birds that fall from the sky, and counts how many hairs are on my head. And He does have good things to accomplish and work together for and in me.

But don't say "God had something better". God has something better. God uses bad things to work together for the good of those who love Him. And I don't mind keeping my faith stocked in Someone who can promise to use whatever bad things happen for His glory, and for my good. I find Him to be my solid rock and all other ground to be shifting sand. Even if I never see "better", I know He is accomplishing even things too wonderful for me to understand. And I am privileged to get a glimpse of any of them.

[editor's note: I write this today, after struggling through two really hard days this week. I don't want people to think I'm really strong and things aren't bothering me. I'm holding together but it's because of God's grace and your prayers, not because of me. I really need your prayers right now.]

All the Way

All the way my savior leads me
and he cheers each winding path I tread
gives me strength for every trial
and feeds me with the living bread
though my weary steps may falter
and my soul a-thirst may be
gushing from a rock before me
Lo! a spring of joy I see

~ Fanny Crosby "All the Way my Savior Leads me"

That isn't just a song today. It's a description of exactly how I feel, and exactly what God does. I guess Fanny wrote this after she'd been struggling financially, and a man on the street came and offered her $5, the exact amount she needed. I think 2nd Peter 1:3 applies nicely.
His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness according to our knowledge of Him who called us according to his own goodness and grace.

Factor V Leiden

My doctor called yesterday with some news. First he asked how I was doing and some other things, and then he explained that he hadn't called earlier because there hadn't been any substantial results from any of the tests. The autopsy was normal. The blood cultures on the placenta were normal. Basically everything had come back negative except for one thing. He said that it's a fairly common problem and one major side effect are miscarriages and stillbirths. It's called Factor V (five) Leiden, and it causes the blood to clot easily. Basically it means that when the blood cells replicate, one of them mutates (some people have both mutate, but in my case it's only one). It's a genetic trait that gets passed on from one parent.

There are still some more tests that haven't come back yet, so this isn't the final word, but the doctor was guessing that I got a blood clot in the placenta or umbilical cord. There could be something else also, and I guess you never really know for sure. What it means for me is that if I get pregnant again, I'll have to be on blood thinners during my pregnancy. That's about all that I know right now and I guess that's all I have to say also. Except thanks to all of the people who have sent cards and brought meals. it has made our lives much easier and we have felt so cared for.

The Dark Night of the Soul

Sometimes my life just don't make sense at all
when the mountains look so big
but my faith just seems so small
so hold me Jesus
cuz I'm shaking like a leaf
you have been King of my glory
won't you be my Prince of Peace?

-"hold me Jesus" Rich Mullins

It's been a week and two days since everything happened. Physically, I feel a lot better. My back hurts a lot, but otherwise I'm mostly OK (with the help of ibuprofen). We have been so blessed by all of the emails and cards and meals we've gotten. Some people wait their whole lives looking for friends that will be there like so many of you have. I can't say thank you enough or in the right way to express how thankful I am. I do hope that you'll continue praying, because things aren't really getting easier yet. A lot of people have said they get worse before they get better. I hope that isn't true.

People ask how we're doing, and I don't know how to answer because so many things are fine. I don't really know how to explain what it feels like. You kind of live on two levels. There's the normal everyday life that continues to roll around you and take you with it, but then there's the pain that lingers under the surface and struggles to keep you remembering, even when you'd rather not. And most of the day things just go on as normal, but then it gets quiet and you're all alone for a few minutes, and there's nothing to distract you so you start thinking about it, replaying it all in your mind, asking the same questions over and over, and wishing that it some how didn't hurt so much. And when the two levels meet each other, you end up crying because you bit your tongue or dropped your bagel in the dirt.

Last night we went on a date, and Daniel told me he felt feelings for me that he hadn't in a long time. I told him when we went to bed that i felt like I'd fallen in love with him all over again. He's soooo wonderful.

I had some time to myself on Tuesday to finally write in my journal and sort things out a little. It was really nice to sit there in the coffee house and think. I'm an introvert, and with all of the support we've been having from others, I haven't processed some things. That gave me a good chance to do it. I'll share a few of the thoughts I had, and then I'll stop writing because this is already pretty long.

I've heard about the dark night of the soul, where your doubts and circumstances cause so much duress that your faith comes up against a wall. I have been there before a couple of times, sitting alone in my room and wondering why I believe in God, if it's all true or if it's just the most logical of religions and in the end they're all lies. Asking questions that don't have good clear answers, and doubting that I'd believe the answers even if I knew. It's a scary place to be in when what you've based your life on suddenly feels unreal and untrue.

I've been waiting for that to happen since this all came out, but so far it hasn't. The opposite has, and I believe that's due to your prayers and the goodness of God. I've seen His hand with every step. I feel held and carried by Him. There have been so many little things that I can attribute to Him. And the fact that I can give Him credit for them makes me glad. Because I know my personality and how my mind works, and how the shadows creep in when I let my guard down. Not that doubting is wrong. But we're blessed when we can not see and still believe. And I guess that's what's been happening, because I do feel blessed and so taken care of. Despite it all.

I still lie awake at night and try to comfort myself, but the comfort that comes is outside of myself. It's the peace that passes understanding, and it's guarding my heart and mind.

... And the things you never thought you'd have to deal with.

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.
"Held" by Natalie Grant

I don't really know how to write this. I'd like to be poetic and profound, but I don't want to exert the energy doing that so I guess I'll just be raw.

On Monday morning I called the doctor because I'd missed my appointment on Friday. I hadn't felt the baby move in a few days, and I was starting to get worried. They called back and had me come in to have an ultrasound (which I'd needed anyway). Everything went like normal, except the technician didn't stop to take any pictures. Then she said, "I'm not finding a heartbeat here either. I'm going to have the doctor take a look." A few minutes later, they escorted me to one of the patient's rooms and I called Daniel to come down.
I'd prayed for peace that morning. I'd been so worried that something was wrong, but in pregnancy, most of your worries end up being nothing, and we all know it doesn't help to worry. So in the shower that morning, I stopped myself from all of the crying (hormones) and prayed that God would give me peace. Then I corrected myself and prayed that God would BE my Peace. And He was. And He has been through everything that's happened, so I'm thankful that He answered that first prayer of mine and gave me that assurance that He is here.
So anyway, the doctor came in when Daniel got there and explained some things. It was a still born baby. There were some deformations, but they didn't really know what had happened yet. We needed to have labor induced, so we decided to do it right away. My mom had Arlene and was planning to watch her as long as she needed to, so we went down to the hospital and got started.
My mother-in-law stopped in later that day. Pat from church did too, to do all of the official pastoral care. It was nice, but we requested no other visitors because we didn't know what state things would be in.
It took seventeen hours of labor before I delivered, but the delivery was pretty fast. I didn't get my epidural in time. I started needing to push before he'd gotten the doses in, so it didn't really take effect until after the baby was born. But it went pretty well, all things considered.
It was a girl. We named her Grace. Since she was more than 20 weeks the state considers her a person, so we had the option of sitting with her or whatever, but we opted not to see her. It's hard to explain all of the reasons and thoughts behind our decisions, but thankfully we just agreed on everything without having to really discuss it with each other.
I couldn't eat until after I'd delivered the placenta and they'd done an ultrasound to make sure there were no remnants, so that took another four hours. Then we ate a big meal and took care of some logistics at the hospital and we came home.
It was zero degrees with 45mph gusts of wind when we came home. We got inside and found three bouquets of flowers and a lot of food. Someone had picked up the house and done dishes too. (Thanks family).
we're doing pretty well. Lots of people have offered to bring meals and help however they can, and I am so grateful. I don't really know what the next few weeks are going to be like. So far it feels like typical grief. I will probably want some company during the day and maybe people to watch Arlene or help me with some house work. I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous for a few weeks.
I don't know what else to say, I guess. Thanks to everyone who's been helping make this easier on us. I know it's hard to know what to say or do. Just know you don't actually have to say or do anything. Prayers have been helping a lot. I know. Knowing that people care about us has made me so thankful for the family of God, and for our families here.
I think that's all for now. If you'd like to help with something, I'd prefer the e-mail contact method over phone, because I'm having a hard time making decisions right now. Thanks to everyone for caring so much. I never thought I'd be in this position.
But my life has been so easy, in some ways, I've been waiting for the bomb to drop. It hasn't been as terrible as I thought it would be, but it has been terrible.

Winter Blues... Thankful list

Last night I was wishing that I were a missionary just so I could send out update letters with things I'm thankful about. But since I'm not a missionary and won't be for a long time if ever, I guess I'll just have to use my blog.
I've been feeling sort of depressed lately, and you're supposed to start being thankful when you're feeling sorry for yourself, so I am going to make a short list of things I'm thankful for. It's probably really boring, so you don't have to read it. But I want to write it. :o)

My french horn which I got as a Christmas present
writer's group
Arlene and all of her cute smiles and hugs
Daniel, the love of my life who becomes more wonderful with every passing day (and I'm not just saying that because I'm a romantic. Because I'm not).
Valentines
my laptop
My small group and the book we're reading about faith
e-mail because otherwise I wouldn't have any friends
my cousins who are all actually pretty cool
panara, brewed awakenings and Breugers
that my brother and sister are in town right now

Christmastime

So, since it's a week before Christmas, I've been doing what I can to get into "the spirit" of things. I have a few other things weighing on my mind, so it hasn't been easy (and I don't suppose it ever is).
We watched part of The Nativity Story in our adult Bible fellowship yesterday. I've kind of wanted to watch it, but it totally surpassed any of my expectations. Granted, I was sort of expecting it to be another mediocre Christian attempt, and some kind of fad that people felt the need to support and like. But watching it pushed my cynicism aside. I liked it. a lot. So... yeah. It got me to thinking about a lot of things. I've always been kind of fascinated with the Magi (wise men) and the missing pieces in the story about why they came to see Jesus and their journey. I don't suppose we'll ever have all of the story while we're here on earth, but it's interesting to think about. Wouldn't it be cool if they're in heaven, because they understood that Jesus was the--Their-- Savior? I think that their mysticism might have made it easier for them to believe that Jesus was God. But we'll never really know.
I have this awesome D.H. Lawrence poem about them, but I've already posted that in some blog a couple of years ago. This time I wanted to post the lyrics to a song by Todd Agnew on "Do you See what I See?", which by the way, is an incredible Christmas album that explores the viewpoints of different people involved in the Christmas story. It's worth the buying if you like thinking differently. There are a couple of songs I really love. This one's pretty good, but there are even better ones.
So...

God With Us

We saw a star and followed it from the east
We've come so far to get here
We held one hope that we might find a King
But how could we know that He would be

God with us
Immanuel, come to us
The King of Israel abides with us
In this little boy, who would know we'd find
The Eternal One born into time
This baby child is God with us

We brought Him gold and frankincense and myrrh
When riches untold He left behind
We brought our best to celebrate a King
Who'd left His throne so He could be

God with us
Immanuel, come to us
THe King of Israel abides with us
In this little boy, who could know we'd fine
Mortal and mystery somehow intertwined
The baby child is God with us

It's a Gift... and a Curse

If you've ever watched USA's show "Monk" you've heard the main detective repeat a phrase, when referring to his wonderful photographic memory and/or ability to remember strange details that seemingly have nothing to do with anything. Someone inevitably says, "Wow, that's amazing! How do you do that?" And he replies, "It's a gift... and a curse."

I've been saying that phrase a lot lately, because I have, by comparative standards, a pretty darn good memory. And I remember random things that I shouldn't, like what clothes someone was wearing the time I met their fiancee's brother's girlfriend. And because I can remember random things like that, I guess it goes without saying that I also remember important things. Sometimes I can repeat a conversation verbatim. And I'm not saying all of this to brag, but actually to complain, because more often than not, I'm frustrated with my memory. It's great when I can remember when something happened or who said what or some important story that someone told me. It really is a gift that we can remember great times with people, and for me it's even better that I can remember so many details from those experiences. But what's frustrating is when I'm the only person who remembers it. I find myself getting extremely bored in conversations with some people, because they repeat themselves. A lot. They tell the same stories every time I'm with them, and I remember them. Every stinking detail. In fact, I correct people in their own stories sometimes because apparently I remembered the details better than they did. It's overly frustrating for me when I talk to someone and they ask me questions that they asked in the last conversation, as if they never asked them. Grrr.

That is why it's a curse. It's also a curse because it makes it a lot harder to forget painful things. I guess a lot of people don't remember everything that happens to them, or everything a person says. The sad thing for me is when someone hurts me, they hardly ever remember the experience if I bring it up. And then I wonder if I should have brought it up at all. I suppose most people remember getting hurt.

It bruises your soul and those bruises stay around for a while. But what does that mean for someone who doesn't easily forget? We talked about this in my adult bible community on Sunday. Our teacher was talking about demonstrating the love that's poetically examined in First Corinthians 13. Love is patient, love is kind... love does not keep a record of wrong... She said that that means you have to decide you're going to forget. You can't just decide to do that if pain is still tearing at you, so first you have to deal with it. And then you decide to forget. Maybe you can't forget forget, but you can choose not to dwell on your hurts. She said that remembering it is a way of controlling your situation and holding the pain against a person.

And I do that. It's not always because I want to. Most of the time, I'd much rather just forget all of those hurtful experiences and move on in a relationship. But when I can remember, I feel justified in whatever feelings I have toward them. And I feel like I'm doing an act of mercy by remaining their friend or choosing to love them. but that isn't how God's love works, I guess.
i wish things like this were easier to figure out.

Obligations

Sometimes I wonder what things people say because they think they’re supposed to, when really they don’t even know what they’re talking about.

Around this part of the country, it seems that a lot of people (mainly old folks) talk about the weather like it’s a serious subject. And, when it rains, inevitably someone says, “Boy it’s good it’s raining. We really needed it.” It doest seem to matter if it’s been raining cats and dogs for the last seventeen days, we sure needed this rain. It doesn’t matter if the crops are drowning because the ground is saturated. We needed that rain.

I wonder if the people who say that are in frequent contact with farmers who know how much rain we should be getting, or if it’s just something they say because they think it sounds right.

Or like when someone says, “how precious. What a good little girl” when I’m at the store with my baby. How do they know if she’s good or not? Maybe she spent the last fifteen minutes in the car screaming and now she happens to be happy because I opened a box of cookies and gave her one (sometimes that is the case, although she really is a pretty good baby).

Or recently I ran into a lady from church out in public at a restaurant. We were chatting (and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have given me the time o’day if I hadn’t been with a friend whom she knew) about church things, and she asked me if I still coordinate child care for the Bible studies. I was surprised she remembered, andsaid I do. Then she says, “Boy that’s such a blessing to us.” And she said it to a couple of other people too. But she’s in her late fifties probably and all of her kids certainly aren’t needing child care (because they’re older than I am). It’s just kind of funny because I wondered if she’d personally been blessed by what I was doing or if she was just saying it because it sounded like the right thing to say.

Even if it’s true, I don’t think that it was a personal experience for her. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not really picking on this particular woman. It was nice of her to remember what I do. But the whole standard of saying things that sound right just because they sound right just bothers me lately. Sometimes, I think, you end up sounding a lot more intelligent and polite if you just keep your mouth shut when you don’t know something.

Rich

"[Ten] years ago today somebody left. Sort of ducked
out the back while we were all busy singing." -tony

I feel like I can call him by his first name even though I never met him and hardly knew him before he passed away. If I were a celebrity, I think I'd want people to still call me Kristin.

Today is the 10th anniversary of the death of Rich Mullins. If you don't know who he is, you're missing out. Look him up. He was a musician. And more than a musician. Probably foremost, he was a writer. He was a teacher, an evangelist, and a follower of God who did radical things and made statements that upset a lot of people.

At least they upset them before he died. Now a lot of folks like to quote him and glorify his words and put him on a pedestal. I don't know if it's only because he died, or if it's because he needed to die in order for people to take the time to look into what he said. There's something so intriguing about dead musicians.

There's something really intriguing about Rich. Because he was so different than everyone you meet. most people like him don't get put in the spotlight. They live their lives in obedience and faithfulness, doing what God called them to do. He just had so much to say about getting close to God and serving and loving. He wasn't always right, and he certainly wasn't PC. But the more I read and listen to him, the more I wonder if I'm serving God like I should be.

BUt sometimes I'm scared of what God calls me to do. I've been studying the book of Luke, and noticing the theme of how Jesus took time to notice the weak, lonely and broken people. It seems that He had a speical place for them. And I feel that the Church has neglected a responsibility to be ministering to the poor and broken. Rich Mullins talked a lot about that. I think I need to do something more. Not sure what, but I'm going to be thinking on it a lot more often.

Anyway, back to Rich. If you aren't tired of reading yet. I want to share everything he did and said with you, but I guess there is no time. And you might not appreciate it like I do. But if you do, there's a link to his articles on the right side of my blog, and 20 the Countdown magazine did a nice tribute to him last weekend, which you can find by scrolling to the bottom of this page.

Some days when I see his words matching exactly what I feel, I really miss him. I can't wait till heaven to see people I respect and admire made whole by God.

So when my body lies in the ruins
of the lies that nearly ruined me
will you pick up the pieces that were pure and true
and breathe your life into them
and set me free
and when you start this world over again from scratch
will you make me new out of the stuff that lasts
and can I be with you?
Can I be with you?
(Rich Mullins/Be with You)

500 Miles

I was in Chicago yesterday to meet up with some internet friends. The only internet friends I have anymore, I guess.
It was good. The conversation wasn't especially deep. We walked to Starbucks so I could get quarters for my parking meter. We ate chicago-style pizza in a booth by Larry Bird's basketball jersey. We talked about college pranks and women in ministry and high school relationships. Reminisced a little.
I wish I were better at talking and being deep. I feel like I'm a really boring person sometimes. I've started to notice that people get tired in my presence.
Anyway. I had a good time, even if my friends didn't. I enjoy them in real life just as much as I do on the internet. And Besides, everyone needs a big bear hug once in a while. Or two.
Some things are worth driving 500 miles for.

It's Loneliness I Need

I wrote this whoel entry in my head last night, but I'm sure I won't remember it as eloquently as I had it yesterday.
I'm up visiting my relatives in Montana this week. We're having a pretty good time. It's a lot different now that I'm married and grown up and the other cousins who are my age aren't around. We still see each other once ina while, but now there are only two cousins living here with my aunt and uncle and grandparents. They're in high school, and being around them reminds me of those days when my perspective was so... different.

"...friendship is not a remedy for loneliness. Loneliness is a part of our experience and if we are looking for relief from loneliness in friendship, we are only going to frustrate the friendship. Friendship, camaraderie, intimacy, all those things and loneliness live together in the same experience." ~Rich Mullins

Recently my friend Amy came over to visit, and some how we got on the topic of youth group and high school, and I told her about how my class in youth group was really cool and was this great group of leaders, but I was never "one of them". We got along. There was a mutual respect and even some rapport from all of the trips we went on together and all of the activities. We all knew each other pretty well.
But they were all friends who shared their lives with each other. Some how, amidst the events I helped plan, leading worship, teaching, and being present at almost every event, I was an outsider. I never felt included. And, even looking back, I'm fairly certain it wasn't just my imagination or me feeling sorry for myself.
It didn't usually bother me, but when they were planning things without including me, or when I showed up at a "friend's" house to give her a birthday card and found that she was having a sleepover, or when they all went to a school dance together and didn't even ask me if I wanted to go, I'd get so frustrated and hurt.
After a particularly hurtful experience, I went home and poured everything out in an e-mail to my mentor friend Brian. We'd talked about it before in different scenarios, and he'd always say he knew what it was like to be accepted but not included. But he would also talk about how loneliness actually stemmed from our relationship with God, or the lack thereof, and how if we weren't walking closely with Him, we'd feel lonely even if we were surrounded by people who loved us.
I think I've seen that pattern to be true. And I've noticed that I can always find a reason to feel alienated and seperate. I think that most of us do that, and i wonder if maybe it's just a way of embodying the emptiness we feel when we aren't close to God. Sure I know Him and trust Him, but walking with Him is something else. Daily getting to know Him better is hard and it's concious, and when I'm not reminding myself to do it, I can find it easy to drift.
And as I drift, I become less content with relationships and more worried about what people think of me and whether or not I'm included.
Maybe this is only something that's true to me. But I do know, no matter where I'm at, that God always understands me and knows me, and wants to include me in His plans and purposes. And when I'm remembering that, it's a lot easier to be less worried about other peoples' parties and lives. And sometimes, it's loneliness that I need to remind me how empty I am without Him.

Posting

I feel like writing a long post about all of the things that have been on my mind lately... but that's what a journal's for, I suppose. I have been thinking about societal expectations and the Church, and being too comfortable. Today I read in Luke chapter 7 the account of the sinful woman anointing Jesus' feet. When Jesus says, "Therefore, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. but to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little", I felt like it was talking about me. The one who loves little. Not that I'm not sinful, and not that I'm not in constant need of God's grace and forgiveness... but I don't think I've experienced it like some have. And I don't know that I ever will experience it in some way. Because I don't really know what it's like to be without God. Certainly there are times when I feel like He isn't listening and isn't there, but I always know He is.
And lately I feel like I love little. I suppose there are ways to change that. And I don't think that those who grow up knowing Christ can't experience the same depth of love that someone who got saved from sex, drugs and alcohol does. But I wonder how I can get from loving little to knowing that intense love and experiencing... more.

The Jesus Box

I don't want to be a cynic
but I've been thinking lately.
Been reading the Gospel of Luke and the stories of Jesus
And I'm starting to wonder:
if I had never met a preacher and never gone to bible school
If I'd never been to church
and been exposed to theology
and doctrine of wise men and scholars
If I'd never watched the Jesus film or seen Him on TV
what kind of Jesus would he be?

Institutions or what?

I went back to a website I used to frequent written by a Christian musician (I stopped frequenting it because I was continually annoyed by what he said). Remembered why I don't go there so often.

Also I came to a conclusion about something that has bothered me for a long time. Something I always want to participate in discussions and arguments over, but can't ever think of the best way to say it. It's the whole stupid Acts 2 argument. That churches aren't doing it right. That we don't have real community and the solution is to stop going to institutionalized church and form your little community in a home church, so that you can really know everyone you worship with.

I suppose there's some validity to that conclusion. It especially works in areas where there is no solid church to attend. But I think that we deprive ourselves of significant growth opportunities by choosing to seclude ourselves because of our disillusionment with stereotypical churches.

And I don't think it has to be one way or the other. I think it should be BOTH. And I know that this isn't brain surgery and lots of people have said it, but I've leaned more toward the traditional church practice and away from "home churches" or "small groups" or "upper room" environments.

Both have something to offer, though. And both should be part of our daily lives. Because the people in Acts devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching AND to the breaking of bread. And they met in the temple courts AND they broke bread in their homes and ate together. (Acts 2:42-47). Most importantly, the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

And that's key, I think. The adding to their numbers. Not for the sake of numbers, but for the sake of GOd and His Name. I really don't think anyone should run away, neglecting the large bodies of churches without a better reason than "there's no community". Because ministry teams, Bible studies, small groups and whatever can and should exist within a church. But they alone cannot offer the same things that an established church with well-equipped staff. (I don't have time to elaborate on that idea, but I'm not just spouting off opinions there. I mean, it is an opinion, but I have some foundations for it as well.)

But maybe I'm just talking.

Technology, friend or foe?

I apologize for the cliche title.

My Space, xanga, Facebook, Blogger, Juno, Gmail, lycosmail. I have an account with each of these. And I still can't figure out how to manage most of them. My junk mail lycos account finally probably shut down. I only made it so my academic decathlon coach wouldn't know my real address, and then I kept using it for internet things that ask for your address.
I have no idea how to use facebook or myspace really. And I have no desire to learn. I do what I can when I have time, but I honestly don't care about them. It's just that all of my cousins have myspace accounts, as well as a couple of friends from high school.
And I actually kind of like xanga better than other things, even though it's behind. Even though it was kind of the first thing. I always seem to jump on board right away, and then everyone else goes in new directions just when I'm starting to like where I'm at.
I remember my first e-mail account. It was with AOL before 4 million people had aol accounts. Me and my high school friends would e-mail each other because we all ahd e-mail. But most people didn't until the next year.
I like being able to stay in touch with friends who move away. But I feel like all of these things leave me lacking. I can read what other people think, but in order to give a really good response, I feel like I'd need to be sitting across from them at a coffee house face-to-face. I can read stuff that my kids write online and be deeply offended and bothered by them, but they feel invincible online and if you call them out on it, they like to pretend like it's not the real world.
And I wonder if it is.
Not to hack to death an old subject, but I'm starting to feel like these online communities are worse for us than they are good. As an "adult", I've really appreciated how I can use them to stay in contact. But some of the people I knew in high school would probably rather not be found by me. And I wish I hadn't found some of them, too. Because then I could go on thinking that they just lost touch, not that they stopped wanting to be in touch (which is the case in some of my relationships, but not all).
BUt seriously. I really wonder if high schoolers have too much of their lives invested in these things. If maybe there wouldn't be as many misunderstandings and fights if they didn't exist. Or if they were used in proportion.

And another problem I have is that I really don't have time for even one blog, let alone two or three and all of the comments and ebullitions that go along with them. And uploading pictures and whatever. I just get tired of it, but I feel chained to them because if I stop using them, I'll lose contact with my friends. I don't feel like it should be that way. I feel like my friends should be willing to stay in contact without internet technology (email excluded). Phones still exsist. So do phone books. And I live in the same city I have all my life, so I don't know why it's so hard for people to find me. Blah. I'd better stop because I'm getting grumpy. ANd so is my baby.