useless in seattle

this weekend my mom took my dad to the hospital when he had trouble with his left side. he had a ct scan which showed some claudification, but didn't stay long enough for an mri. so he had an mri done on wednesday which showed that he's had two strokes.

they live in miami. Jak and i live in seattle.

he's going in for surgery this afternoon (friday @ 1 eastern time), but we're not arriving until saturday night.

there's a real sense of impotence being so many thousands of miles away while my family goes through this, especially just over a month past my grandmother's passing.

i'm thankful that we'll be able to be there as of saturday, but this week that has passed in between his visit to the er and now, has been one of worry and frustration (hence the silence in this little corner of the blogosphere).

so for those who are people of prayer, i ask that you keep my family in your prayers in the coming days. i probably won't be posting for at least another week and a half or so as i don't expect to have the time or much to say for a while.

[updated 1.5.07]
my dad had his surgery today (a stent inserted into his right carotid artery which had been 90% blocked), and all went well. he should be out of the hospital and recovering at home tomorrow, just a few hours before we arrive.

personal agendas

i haven't been blogging much lately. i haven't really felt that i've had anything to say over the past couple of weeks. i have had a lot on my mind, but i either haven't had the words for those thoughts, or they aren't things i would share in this sort of forum. but for those who want something to read on these pages, don't worry, i have at least three or four things on my mind today that i want to blog about (though i probably won't get to most of those tonight - which just means i'll have more to write about later).

on saturday, Jak and i had a day-long prayer retreat to go to for class. i've had many thoughts come through my mind since then, but a new one crossed my mind today in response to that day. i'm wondering if we can go about approaching anything without our personal agenda leading the way, and if so, how.

what would it look like if we were to approach our relationships without our personal agenda getting in the way? would we learn how to truly love the other as ourselves? would we be able to actually see them as another, more than someone we can get something from? could we actually learn to put them first?

okay, reading that probably makes me sound selfish, as if i can barely imagine approaching another person without purely me-centered motives. i don't want to think that's the case, but maybe it is. maybe that's why Jesus talked so much about love, because he knew we had to hear a lot about it just to start getting a glimpse of what it is God wants from us.

but it wasn't my selfishness towards other people that brought these thoughts to mind. i came to think about this while reflecting on my time in prayer with God on saturday. during that time, i realized how difficult it is for me to approach God without bringing in my own agenda. as i talked with God, i found that i just kept wanting to ask to get my way in things. it's very hard to say, as Jesus did, "not my will, but yours be done."

does anyone else struggle so much with this? i mean, i know i'm a fighter. i know i like to have things go my way. i know that i'm incredibly stubborn and hard-headed. but is this simply my nature that causes me to wrestle so much with God in this way, or does everyone do this?

a day of trying to talk with - and hear from - God, caused me to realize how little i'm willing to listen and how much the only thing i want to hear is, well, what i want to hear.

i guess it's just that i've fought with God for so long over so many things, and i'm finally realizing that the fight only continues because i'm unwilling to let God set the agenda. okay, i've known that for a while.

i think the difference now comes from the realization that if i can't put my agenda aside when approaching God - who knows my heart and my intentions better than i do - then i can't expect to be able to honestly come to others and put them first. if i can't put my agenda aside for God, then i can't do that for others, and God calls me to do both.

on saturday, it felt like i got tired of my own agenda, i got tired of the continuous fight with God. i finally - and truly - wanted God's agenda to rule my life. i mean, in the past i've prayed for God's will and not mine to take place in my life, but i think that those words never matched my desires. i'm finally so sick of trying to have things go my way, that i'm finally ready to try setting my agenda aside to hear what God might have to say to me.

in realizing that i put myself first in my relationship with God, i'm seeing that i must do that to a great extent with others, and that behavior is so far from God's desire. now i guess i just have to figure out in what ways i put my personal agenda before others so i can work on learning to set that aside.

i feel like this is the most rambling, directionless post so far on my blog. but, i guess sometimes when we realize big things we don't necessarily have the words to explain it.

community

has anyone else out there struggled with the concept of community? or more specifically, not the concept, but the living out of that concept?

i guess i've often held on to the expectation that community should just happen somehow. i've held on to the idea that if believers gather with other believers, that regardless of their differences - gender, ethnicity, history, political stance, theological perspectives - a sense of unity should prevail. well, biblically, it should prevail. but i think that i've allowed a sense of the magical to overtake the practical. i mean that i have expected community to just happen, while spending so much of my life unwilling to do the work that it actually entails.

i'll give a personal example here.

after having christians hurt me numerous times, i let myself become hardened. i moved away from trying to be in community and towards expecting people to approach me in a loving, unifying, communal way. when that wouldn't happen, it reinforced my belief that it was the fault of the people around me, that they didn't understand community or what it's supposed to be.

but then, a few years ago, i realized that i had to stop expecting community to just happen. i realized that if i wanted to enter into the stories and lives of others, i had to become willing to share my life and story with them. realizing this made no difference. because of the hurts i'd experienced in the past, i responded to that realization with a complete unwillingness to do anything about it. after all, i rationalized, been there, done that, been hurt - therefore i waited for someone else to take the first step.

that step never came.

i eventually realized that because God wants us to be in community, that it was a matter of repentance for me to open up my life to others, to share my story. though i didn't like that, it meant that i was able to begin to start taking small, fearful steps towards that - towards others.

in many ways it's easier to remain isolated. our culture teaches us to be independent. but scripture tells us that we're supposed to depend on God and each other. we can't do that as long as we believe our culture's lies.

as i began to share parts of my stories with others, for the first time in years, i found others were willing to do the same. as i began to share my struggles with those around me, i found strength through others, and i was able to begin stepping into the stories, struggles, and lives of those around me.

you know, i can't only blame our culture. it's easy to do that. but i think that much fault also lies in the way we "do" church these days. i mean, we show up once or twice a week, dressed up in our "sunday best" (or not), and sing some songs, listen to someone preach, listen to some people pray, give some money (after all, we have to pay for our attendance at the show), and maybe have a sip of juice or wine as we chew on a bite of bread. i don't know, but to me, that doesn't look like what we're supposed to be as a church.

i read an article the other day that mentioned that the amish don't say that they are going to church. they don't have church buildings, but instead meet at various places: barns, schoolhouses, people's homes. instead, they say that the church is meeting.

the terminology might seem simple or pointless, but i think it makes a big difference. instead of "going to church" they are continually reminded that they are the church, then on certain days (say, sundays), the church meets.

so why do we go to church? is that where our sense of community lies? why can't we be the church, and allow ourselves - as the church - to meet at certain times to deepen the sense of community? wouldn't our sense of community be deeper if we realized that having coffee with friends, sharing lunch or dinner together, even playing games is being in church? that church is meeting with each other where each one of us is, hearing each others' stories, relating the stories of our lives with God's story, and jumping in head-first into each others' struggles? wouldn't prayer be more meaningful if it wasn't simply some person at the front of the sanctuary saying some words that they feel led to say without the context of the entire community present influencing that? wouldn't it be a healthy move for the institutional church to stop trying to keep the power of the word "church" to itself, and realize that it should serve as a meeting place for the community, rather than trying to be what a community - not an institution - is supposed to be?

violence - part ii

i just read this article on the ooze regarding the recent shooting in the amish school. i thought the author had some good points to make about forgiveness, especially about it being something that we have much to learn from the amish about.

though i still wonder what i can do daily to reduce and redeem violence. i mean, it's one thing to forgive, it's another to help protect our children from such violence.

this rash of school violence brings me back to p.o.d.'s song, youth of the nation:

Last day of the rest of my life
I wish I would've known cause i'd have kissed my momma goodbye.
I didn't tell her that I loved her or how much I cared
or thank my pops for all the talks and all the wisdom he shared.
Unaware I just did what I always do.
Everyday the same routine before I skate off to school
but who knew that this day wasn't like the rest,
instead of takin' the test I took two to the chest.
Call me blind but I didn't see it comin'
and everybody was runnin' but I couldn't hear nothin',
except gun blast, it happened so fast
I didn't really know this kid though I sat by him in class.
Maybe this kid was reachin' out for love
or maybe for a moment he forgot who he was
or maybe this kid just wanted to be hugged,
whatever it was I know its because

We are We are the youth of the nation

Little Suzy she was only twelve
she was given the world with every chance to excel
Hang with the boys and hear the stories they tell
she might act kinda proud but no respect for herself
She finds love in all the wrong places
the same situations but different faces.
Changed up her pace since her daddy left her
too bad he never told her she deserved much better.

Johnny boy always played the fool,
he broke all the rules so you would think he was cool.
He was never really one of the guys no matter how hard he tried,
with the thought of suicide
It's kinda hard when you ain't got no friends,
he put his life to an end they might remember him then.
You cross a line and there is no turnin' back
he told the world how he felt with the sound of a gat.

Who's to blame for the life that tragedies claim?
No matter what you say it won't take away the pain
that I feel inside I'm tired of all the lies
don't nobody know why it's the blind leadin' the blind.
Guess that's the way that the story goes,
will it ever make sense somebody's gotta know,
there's gotta be more to life than this,
there's got to be more to everything I thought exists

violence in the news

it is criminal that we are people that create a world where violence is acceptable. it is felonious that we are perpetrators of violence onto our children.

twice in recent weeks, there have been news stories of adults entering schools and shooting children. the first story was shocking. the second one crowded the first one out of the news. yet the tragedies are still there, weighing heavily on the families who have lost children, frightening other kids who have with these stories.

we are made criminals by living in a society that drives adults to hurt children if we are not actively pursuing ways to bring peace. we are abusers and murderers by helping to create a society that causes children to perpetrate violence against other children.

three shootings in schools in the recent weeks.

we are just as violent as the society we live in if we are not actively striving to be peacemakers.

i don't know what to do with that.

how can i be a peacemaker? how can i make our world safer? how can i protect the children of this world? how can i help bring healing to our society?

i don't have answers to those questions. but i also know that i can't ignore these news stories.

when Jesus was moved to compassion, he acted. he did something. he healed, he helped, he saved, he spoke. i need my compassion to move me. there must be passion in my compassion.

in the words of Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

hope

i've taken to reading quite a few blogs lately, and what i've found to be most frustrating is how many of the people i most want to hear from don't update frequently. so though i don't i have much to say, and i'm not sure how many of you read this, i figure that to avoid what i find disappointing, i myself should avoid. therefore, i'll be (at least for now) making as much of an effort as i can to post regularly, even if i don't have much to say.

there are a couple of other books that i read this summer that i really feel are worth posting on, but i'd have to take the time to glance through them again before writing about them. and it's late, and i'm tired, so i'm not going to do that tonight.

so i'm not sure what to write about in this space tonight (of course, if you do read my blog, and have any ideas of things i should write about for other posts, please let me know).

what follows may simply be some stream-of-consciousness writing. this will be somewhat experimental for me, as i believe the only other time i've written this way was for an exercise in middle or high school or something.

the ceiling glitters with twinkling lights, much like a strange white night sky. the sparks of light seem much like hope in my life, something i have only recently learned to see and therefore sparse and distant from one another. but no less real than the light that is causing the reflections in the ceiling; no less real than the light of the sun; no less real than the God who is light.

it seems impossible to imagine that anyone could live a life - or even a single day - without hope. i think i believe that hope is as essential as air and water, as nourishing as food. yet i can honestly say that i'd never even begun to understand anything about hope until fairly recently. i find that i now desire to feast on it to break free from the years of starvation, and i carefully, warily tread near it, examining it, as if fearful that it's not true.

i could never say that i've never had moments of hope in the past. but the clearest moment and glimpse of hope i'd ever had was snatched away from me so quickly and violently, that a deep fear was planted within me to avoid any semblance of hope again. the theft of my hope that day led to the darkest night i have experienced, the darkest moment i think a person can experience (though maybe that's simply my overall inexperience speaking).

it took me a decade to seek hope again after that robbery and darkness. it took me a third of my life so far to be willing to risk wondering about hope.

now that i've tasted hope, i can't even begin to imagine the forced starvation i put myself through for all those years. i wonder if i could have had it any other way. i wonder if i'm still such a person that i could allow someone to steal my hope, or if i've gained the strength to avoid allowing another to crush me.

so as i look at these glints of light in the ceiling, i smile and my eyes close in delight and utter gratefulness to the God who has given me life, who gives me - and calls me to - hope, and who's grace and mercy are well beyond anything i could ever begin to understand.

icons

did you know that icons are considered written, not drawn or painted? they're written, just as scribes wrote and copied ancient texts. icons are written and copied, following the images that have been passed down for centuries.

i find that fascinating.

icons are not prayed to, but prayed with. this is done much in the same way as many of us will pray with scripture, by keeping a verse or passage in mind as we pray, or repeating words we've heard and read in the bible to God as we speak with the Divine.

icons tell stories, just as the bible does.

this icon pictured here is our mother of perpetual help. Gabriel is in the top left, holding the spear and pole with the sponge filled with vinegar that will be used in Christ's passion. Michael is on the right, holding the cross and nails that will bring Christ's redeeming death. Mary holds Jesus, comforting him, while seeing her loss that will come with his suffering. Jesus, having seen the future that awaits him, runs to his mother for comfort, losing a sandal along the way.

it's a beautiful representation of the incarnation, isn't it? to put that in english, God became man, not just man, but a child, a child who would need his mother and seek comfort in her arms. now, we have the Spirit as our comforter, in all our needs.

we will experience pain and face difficulties, but none so much as what Jesus did. it wasn't easy for him, and it won't be easy for us. i guess it's most encouraging to see that he needed comfort from other humans, not only from his heavenly father. that just seems to open up the door for us, to not just seek understanding from Jesus, or comfort from the Spirit, or strength from the Father, but to realize that community - friends and family - can bring us through these times as well. Jesus, God himself, had to rely on the people around him - his mom, friends, brothers - and we can do the same.

i think that icons can change the way i pray.

stations of the cross

how many classes in evangelical seminaries would not only take the time to discuss a variety of prayer practices, but to include ones that are part of our historical christian faith, even those that have for so long been ignored or rejected outright by protestants?

this week, during prayer I, as a class, we walked the stations of the cross. this is a form of prayer practiced since medieval times, but lost amongst protestants since the reformation.

while, for me, it was distracting to walk in the midst of a group of at least seventy of us, there was also a sense of something beyond me that i experienced by being with such a large community all at once. i must say, it brought to mind my sinful nature by the fact that i spent so much of my time judging - thinking badly - of those i walked with.

i think the best part of the experience for me was the reminder of quiet walks through the stations of the cross at my childhood church. i probably never did it on my own until high school, and then rarely (and only until hurricane andrew blew away our outdoor garden which contained the stations). but i remember the quiet peacefulness, and the communion with God that i got to experience in those walks.

it makes me want to find a church somewhere nearby with the stations. it makes me want to make it at least a semi-regular practice. and it reminds me of some of the reasons that i still long for something that the R.Catholic church offers that i can't seem to find in any protestant church. for at least a few years now, i've been longing to go to mass - at least occasionally - yet i never seem to do so. i can't help but wonder if i would be able to feel more at home in protestant churches, if i allowed myself to worship in the mystical liturgy of the R.Catholic church on a regular basis.

i think i will always remain brokenhearted over the negativity between catholics and protestants. i can't help but believe that by dismissing each other so vehemently, we are blinding ourselves to many essentials of our faith.

how will i minister in the midst of this tension? i mean, what does discipleship to students look like when i allow myself more openness than the churches we'll be sure to be in will allow for in our ministry? what can i do, in my own small world, to find ways to peacefully bridge protestants and catholics, without trying to force anyone to lose their own particularities? and how can i live in the tension, without anger or judgement towards those who disagree with my viewpoints?