how we can be

"Only writing stays with the great vision. That's why we have to go back again and again to books--good books, that is. And read again and again the visions of who we are, how we can be. The struggle we go through as human beings, so we can again and again have compassion for ourselves and treat each other kindly."

           ~Natalie Goldberg, from Writing Down the Bones

shalom

So, my sister got me this book for my birthday

and I started it this morning. It's really good, scholarly yet surprisingly accessible. (I zipped through 24 pgs in like, twenty minutes!) At the outset, Eckert is discussing reasons why women may not feel whole in our society--relational loss; trying to do-it-all and failing; criticisms that we've internalized and begin to believe about ourselves; cultural messages that sexualize and fracture women, relegating them to bodies that sell things, objects of desire; even the church, which, while it is supposed to be a safe community for broken people of all backgrounds and genders to work together, each using their gifts fully, is all too often a place dominated by men, where the concept of who women should be is extremely narrow.

Then, she begins to discuss definitions for wholeness, and I thought you'd be interested in this:

"...the Hebrew prophets [discuss a way to live whole] called shalom: 'in the Bible, shalom means universal flourishing, wholeness, and delight--a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts are to be fruitfully employed... Shalom, in other words, is the way things ought to be'" (Cornelius Platinga 10). 

So, shalom to you, dear readers. Have a flourishing, rich, delightful day!

Do something impossible

So, the next question to be tackled from the list:

What is one impossible thing that you will believe God for this year?

When I first read this question, my immediate response was, that he'll help me write a book. Why that, out of all the possible things to believe for? Well, because it scares the shit out of me, for one. 

As soon as I thought this, and knew with all certainty that writing a book was the goal for the year--the impossible goal--I got really embarrassed. This is, I'm sure you realize, in comparison with say, solving one or more family crises, or helping people in Haiti. I'm completely selfish. 

Of course, I want to believe God for altruistic things. But this book is particularly significant. It's between him and I. He knows, and I know, that I'm scared to start. We both know I feel paralyzed and yet conflicted about my paralysis, since I feel somewhere in my gut that I am a writer. Well, writers write. So, here we go. I'm going to attempt a record of this effort, which you may follow,  if you like, here.  I'm leaping off the cliff, no net. We'll see where I land. 

Why I Heart Snow

-It is beautiful. Or at least charming.
-It is quiet.
-If there is enough of it, you get a snow day:)
-It comes in different sizes and textures: i.e., wet, floppy, soft, floaty, hard, tiny, gritty, light
-When it falls slowly, it's just magic.
-Two words: Midnight walks.
-Bundling can be cute...


-It is prettier to look out when it's in the teens and see a thick layer of white sparkles, as opposed to dead grass and cold pavement.
-It makes winter holidays all the more fun!
-It smells good.
-It looks becoming snagged on eyelashes.
-It is fun to catch on your tongue.


-It is fun to pack into balls that you launch as projectiles.
-Have you ever made a snow angel????
-Two words: Winter Olympics.


-I hear snow-shoeing is incredible exercise.
-It makes a satisfying smush-crunch under your feet.
-It makes the covers seem cozier.

what the what????

I feel so ugh today.
#1- I'm freezing cold. thanks, michigan
#2-I caught sight of myself in the mirror this morning and literally almost cried. I looked so puffy and tired, in a most depressingly teacher-sort-of-way. Or, in a prisoner-of-war-sort-of-way. Couldn't tell.
#3-I have the busiest day EVER ahead of me (groan)...
#4-I procrastinate.
#5-Just found out an old family friend had a mental breakdown...am creeped out, and also cynically not surprised. Feel tireder.
#6-I have no idea where to start today.
#7-found random image above at this cooky spot. Kind of strange, kind of wonderful, in a confusing sort of way.

Have resolved to embrace the dumbfoundedness for the rest of the day. Possibly, all week. Why not, right?!

Here we go, Monday!

Joy is walking on a road, not really a "place" so much as it's a process.


Found this beautiful photograph of a road, and though the title is "long road to ruin," I'll just swap in "joy" for "ruin". Thinking about what joy even means. Or, what it means to "enjoy God". Or, "What 's one way I can enjoy God more this year?"


EN-JOY. To be "in joy"? To exist in joy like fish exist in water, swimming, immersed in it, breathing it in and out, moving through it, buoyed by it...?

In the Old Testament, water is used as a metaphor for helplessness.
Wine, on the other hand, is a metaphor for joy.


The familiar story, out of John 2, where Jesus turns the water into wine, was the topic of the sermon at Grace yesterday. The point was that famous quote from Mary: "whatever He says, do it...." or, the road to joy means doing what Jesus says. I like to think that it's also a metaphor for my life: that Christ turns helplessness into joy.

Jesus was a joyful person, someone that others wanted around...I mean, he was invited to that wedding in Cana, right? He wasn't sitting in the corner, quietly judging all the guests partying...he didn't even make a stink about there being *gasp* alcohol at the wedding. In fact, the first miracle he performed, how he "showed his glory," was in creating more wine when the host had run out, keeping the party going.

It's an interesting thing, thinking about how to be "joyful". On one hand, you could just drink a lot of wine...but there's something about that just rings hollow without a deep and abiding inner sense of joy. So, just drowning my stresses and sorrows in literal wine isn't the solution. Probably wouldn't hurt, though.

The thing about joy is that its becoming more about awareness for me. Awareness of what I have, awareness of the good...and the not-so-good. Awareness of my own utter helplessness...of my own meanness, smallness, of my own inner "judger", that super-easy talent I have for thinking I'm right and everyone else just doesn't get it and so I point the finger at them and ignore my own shortcomings (gladly!). Hyprocrite-me. This kind of awareness might seem self-flagellating or morbid. On the contrary, I say. If no one had called attention to the fact that there was no wine, that there was only water, then maybe nothing would have happened. Noticing that there's only water in my life presents the opportunity for a miraculous transformation; for Jesus to turn water into wine. Helplessness to joy. Awareness of that exchange, dwelling on it, in it, swimming around in the realization of that miracle is...bright and full and awesome and overwhelming--like being swallowed in warmth and light after hours in the frigid cold without a coat. The prickly hurty delicious pain comes, the pain that means you are thawing, and you can breathe. Seemingly for the first time, you fill your lungs with warm, bright air. And that may be a way to enjoy God.