Thursday, November 10, 2011

statements of belief.

Read this first.



Reading Natalie's post yesterday challenged me to think to myself, what do I believe in? What's my statement of belief? I share in Natalie's obvious beliefs, including Jesus and gravity. So, assuming those are understood and that this list is by no means not complete, here is my statement of belief:


I believe in bubbles.
I believe that running is free therapy.
I believe each morning is a fresh start for something beautiful.
I believe in celebrating little moments of everyday life.
I believe that everyone has a story worth telling. 
I believe in silly. 
I believe in the power of words to bring life, and
I believe in becoming.


What do you believe?

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

limits and potentials.







"Each of us arrives here with a nature, which means both limits and potentials. We can learn as much about  our nature by running into our limits as by experiencing our potentials. The God I know does not ask us to conform to some abstract norm for the ideal self. God asks us only to honor our created nature, which means our limits as well as our potentials. One dwells with God by being faithful to one's nature. One crosses God by trying to be something one is not." - Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

give & take.

"Be a giver, not a taker" - That phrase is scribbled throughout the many pages of journals I kept this summer, both while I was in Italy and while I was a Castaway.

It's a simple phrase, really. Easy to understand at a basic level. To me, it makes sense relationally; giving and pouring into people without taking much in return. I read or heard somewhere that in every relationship, there's a giver and a taker. A person who gives more into the relationship and a person who takes more away from it. At the core of my being, I want to be a giver and not a taker. 

That's why I wrote about it so much this summer. I was in new places with new people and desperately desiring to be made into a person who gives and doesn't take. There are so many complexities and tangents and questions with that way of thinking.

Can you give independently of taking? Are they mutually exclusive? Is it possible to have a relationship where you're only giving and never taking? Isn't that life-sucking and probably seriously unhealthy for your well-being? Can you take and never give? Can you recognize it? Isn't is selfish? Do giving and taking occur congruently, even if we're not conscious of it? Do we all give and take in all of our relationships, but maybe we're only aware of the giving or the taking, even thought both are happening?  Is it healthy to have one without the other? Where does giving end and taking begin? Do giving and taking need to happen within the same relationship? Can you give into some people but take from others, letting those people take yet again from others - like a domino effect? 

I've been thinking a lot the past few days about giving and taking; about relationships and friendships and how people are messy and there's no how-to guide for doing life together. There's no step-by-step, one-size-fits-all, this-is-what-it's-like-to-love-people guide. Wouldn't it be nice if there were? I continue to come back to the truth that there are as many ways to do life - to be and do and think - as there are people in the world. No two people or relationships function the same, so giving and taking is different for every relationship, every friendship, every interaction, and every person. 

The only thing I know to be true is that in order for me to give in any capacity, I need to take from somewhere. If I want to pour into the people in my life, I need to be poured into. I fully recognize that above anything else, that fulfillment comes from Christ. My groundedness and centeredness and ability to care for and love the people in my life comes from a God who is much bigger and much stronger and much more able than I. Certainly by my own strength, I cannot give. On my own, I am a taker. Through and through, I am a taker. I can think of numerous friendships, both in the past and present, where it seems like the only thing I do is take.

But, I am starting to see and think that maybe my desire to be a giver isn't the best thing, either. Giving and giving and giving and never taking or never being poured into isn't healthy. Certainly, my ability and strength to give comes from connectedness with God. In order to pour out, I need to have something in me to give. But isn't it healthy to have friendships that are life giving? That build you up? Not only healthy I'd say, but also necessary. Essential. That's what community is. 

There's definitely a tension to giving and taking in relationships. Who is giving and taking and how much they are giving and taking - all things that I don't believe are static, but are very, very fluid. And I don't have it figured out by any means. I'm still very much figuring out how to live in the tension of give & take, doing what I can to find a healthy amount of each. 

What are your thoughts about giving and taking? Are there friendships where you're only giving? Or only taking? Is either option healthy? What are you doing to create space in your life to give? What are you doing to create space to take? 

Sunday, November 6, 2011

ebenezer.

(scroll down to my playlist, press pause, and listen to this instead)

I've listened to and sang "Come Thou Fount" a handful of times in church services and have a rockin' Sufjan Stevens version on my iPod, but I never made the connection with the word ebenezer. Did you catch the line? Here I raise my ebenezer. On a basic level, I think I understood that an ebenezer was something- some sort of offering - that you're supposed to give to God. But I never really got it until last week. 

"Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, "Thus far the Lord has helped us." (1 Samuel 7:12) 

Last week at MissioDei, we reflected on this passage (1 Samuel 7:3-13). An ebenezer, as the passage says, is a stone of help. It's symbol that Samuel uses in this story to remind the Israelites that God was with them. He was their help. He was the one who brought them to that place, providing what they needed exactly as they needed it along the way. 

That's not unlike us, either. Until this day, the Lord has brought us here. He has given us exactly what we need, good, hard, bad, fun, painful, joyful, and anything and everything in between. He has brought us to the exact place we're at. He has given us RENEWAL. He has made us new and continues to make us new. If we're not aware of that, if we're not aware of the goodness that God's brought in our lives, it's easy to turn away. Easily, we get blind-sighted by our idols - by image and helping and work and materialism and ideology and comfort and approval and control and power. If we're not aware of the work that God's done and is doing and will continue to do in our hearts and in our lives, we fall apart.

I want to live with eyes wide open to the ebenezer in my life; to the renewal God's given and will continue to give. I want to pick out and celebrate with thanksgiving the reminders of His goodness and help. Bethesda. Redemption. Young Life. Transformation. Friendships. Freedom. Worth. Identity. Reminders of God's goodness. 

I want to be a person who lives with a spirit of thanksgiving. Last week at church, we were challenged to think of thanksgiving as an act of worship. A lifestyle. A posture, not a gesture. Not a one time event. Not one day of the year or one holiday, but rather, a way of living and doing and being and thinking. I want to be so consumed with thanksgiving that it's bursting forth my soul. The way that we remember our past shapes the way that we think about our future. I want to remember and live my whole story with thanksgiving, lifting up praises to the God who gives and provides exactly what we need exactly when we need it. 

That's where I sit tonight. Thanksgiving. Ebenezer. Renewal. 



What's your ebenezer? What's the renewal that God has brought unto this day? Are you living with a posture of thanksgiving? 

Friday, November 4, 2011

moving on, then.

I wrote earlier this week about needing to tell a story; about sharing the parts of who I am that I'm not proud of.

 Can I get a re-do on that?

I mean, don't get me wrong, I still think that my story must be told. The good and the bad. Your story must be told, too. But with each passing day, I've felt a pull not to share (explicitly anyway) what's been going on. Although there could be benefit in walking you through every last emotion and thought in my head the past two weeks, I don't think it would be the best thing.

I want my story to be told in other ways. I don't think I need to explain everything that's happened, but instead, I want the changes in my heart to be shown through the way I approach and write about life as it's unfolding around me. 

Moving on, then.