The girls and I decided to pick up Prince Caspian for a bed time reading this time around. It's book 4 in the C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia and it has become one of my favorite of the series. This particular quote captured my heart last night:
"...Caspian, though tears had come into his eyes at saying good-bye to Doctor Cornelius, felt brave and, in a way, happy, to think that he was King Caspian riding to seek adventures, with his sword on his left hip and Queen Susan's magic horn on his right. But when day came, with a sprinkle of rain, and he looked about him and saw on every side unknown woods, wild heaths, and blue mountains, he thought how large and strange the world was and felt frightened and small."
Here's how I've translated it to reflect my own heart's struggle:
Shauna, though tears had come into her eyes and an ache took over just beneath the surface of her chest at saying good-bye to those she came to know at MHGS, felt hopeful and, in a way, excited to think that she was a Therapist on her way to seek adventures, with her copy of Buber's I and Thou in her left hand, O'Donnell and Steve's voices in her right ear, and Dan's pardon of shame written on her heart. But when day came, with not a speck of rain in the sky, and she looked about her and saw on every side unknown faces, unexpected obstacles, and no place to call home, she thought how large and strange the world was and felt frightened and small.
Showing posts with label MHGS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MHGS. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Morning Before
I think last night was the first night of a full 8 hours of sleep in at least 2 weeks...but quite possibly in a month's time. And now, after a night filled with anxiety-ridden dreams, I am sitting by myself in bed with my computer upon my lap wondering when the last time was that I had a few minutes in the morning to myself. Brian is off to get a couple of cavities filled before he picks up the big yellow moving truck. The girls are still sleeping...and it's 8 in the morning. Considering the sun has been up already for about 3 hours, the fact that not a single one of them has yet wandered into my room this morning is evidence that their little bodies have also suffered from the chaotic swirling of events as of late.
So here I sit. Procrastinating. I don't want to finish packing up all of our belongings today. I'm resistant to ending. But no matter how long I procrastinate...the deadline will inevitably arrive. Since Friday of last week, where I attended a moving and overwhelmingly emotional graduates breakfast filled with the sharing of memories, I have had little time to stop and identify what is going on within my own heart and soul. Without any time or space to simply let emotions flood over me I found that every moment I had to myself became an opportunity to release the tears that needed to come out. Seriously...every moment I was alone. But those few moments were not spacious enough to really reflect or "process" as we like to call it at MHGS. Pause here. I just realized that I probably shouldn't say/write things like "we...at MHGS" any longer. One more gut-wrenching thought to add to my list of things needing to be processed at a later point in time.
Actually I've been anticipating that it will be the long drive from WA to CO where I'll finally allow myself to fully feel all that I am carrying with me right now. But I will try to be present today as I finish packing each room and scrub it clean till it shines. I will try to count all the things for which I am thankful, for all the faces for which I have grown to truly love, for all the ways in which I have been marked by this place, these faces, these moments.
So here I sit. Procrastinating. I don't want to finish packing up all of our belongings today. I'm resistant to ending. But no matter how long I procrastinate...the deadline will inevitably arrive. Since Friday of last week, where I attended a moving and overwhelmingly emotional graduates breakfast filled with the sharing of memories, I have had little time to stop and identify what is going on within my own heart and soul. Without any time or space to simply let emotions flood over me I found that every moment I had to myself became an opportunity to release the tears that needed to come out. Seriously...every moment I was alone. But those few moments were not spacious enough to really reflect or "process" as we like to call it at MHGS. Pause here. I just realized that I probably shouldn't say/write things like "we...at MHGS" any longer. One more gut-wrenching thought to add to my list of things needing to be processed at a later point in time.
Actually I've been anticipating that it will be the long drive from WA to CO where I'll finally allow myself to fully feel all that I am carrying with me right now. But I will try to be present today as I finish packing each room and scrub it clean till it shines. I will try to count all the things for which I am thankful, for all the faces for which I have grown to truly love, for all the ways in which I have been marked by this place, these faces, these moments.
Friday, June 25, 2010
No words...
There are no words to describe all that I am feeling in these final moments.
So when there are no words...there is always dance.
Click here to watch what happens when words are abandoned and movement becomes language.
So when there are no words...there is always dance.
Click here to watch what happens when words are abandoned and movement becomes language.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Then and Now
This photo was taken a couple of weeks after we sold our vehicles, garage-saled a quarter of what we owned, put the rest in storage and left Littleton, Colorado to live briefly in the beautiful country of Uganda. This was the girls' first day as students at the Kabira International School and it was Brian's very first day of teaching his own class!
Now, nearly four years later, we are about to return to Colorado, the place we used to call home. It's strange to think that it no longer feels like home. At about the three month mark of our time in Uganda I remember thinking that there was no way we could handle being away from all of our friends and family for the three years it would take me to complete a masters degree at MHGS. The months we spent living in a foreign country almost entirely on our own left us feeling a kind of loneliness that I think few people experience in their lifetime. We were fortunate to have one another - and at the same time it was that level of "togetherness" that revealed so much of the brokenness that had been covered up by the distractions of our daily lives before that season.
It was the isolation we experienced in Uganda that Brian and I were forced to face the fracture of our marriage. And it was because of this fracture that we decided not to return after we had traveled to Colorado for Christmas that year. Unsure of what our next step should be, we moved to California to live with my dad so that both Brian and I could work and attempt to save up the necessary funds we would need in order to relocate to the Pacific Northwest so that I could pursue further education. The six months we spent living in California were not necessarily any easier than living in another country. It was the first time since I was five years of age that I had spent any extended amount of time with my father. There I was, a grown woman with three kids of her own, discovering that the wound from his absence in my life was still very much a part of who I had come to be and how I had come to relate to others.
In that six months Brian and I wrestled with our plans for our future. We questioned if such a thing as "our future" even existed anymore. After having grown up in a broken family I never imagined that divorce would be a word in my own relational vocabulary. And yet, we were at our breaking point. Neither of us knew what to do. Years of marriage counseling. Years of seeking out advice from spiritual advisors, friends, and family. Nothing seemed to help. We couldn't help but wonder if the stress of relocating a family of five and the demands of grad school were just simply too much for our fragile relationship to withstand.
So Brian and I were forced to get really real with each other. I know that's horrible grammar...but there's no other way for me to describe it. We had to speak honestly to one another...like really honest. The kind of stuff you only write in journals when you think no one else will ever read them. We spoke of the possibility of divorce and wondered about what that would look like. We talked about our ideas around custody and how we would still be co-parents and that we would have to get over ourselves so that we could celebrate every holiday and birthday together as a family. It was perhaps the most difficult conversation of my life. We also talked about the financial struggles such a decision would inevitably create. And that's when we both agreed that we simply had to move so that I could acquire the degree necessary for me to pursue a career that would make it possible for me to survive with while raising our three girls in a joint-custody situation.
It's so crazy for me to think that it was because we were contemplating divorce that we set sail on this journey three years ago. Sure there were plenty of other things set in motion to point me in this particular direction towards this particular school. But the possibility of us divorcing was one of the deciding factors. We were both hopeful that the experience would help us find one another again, but I don't think either of us really believed such a thing actually was possible.
There were a lot of things that happened in this journey that I never would have believed possible three years ago. And the most surprising has been that somewhere along this road I fell in love with my husband. I had always cared deeply for him before...but I'm not sure that I had really been capable of loving another...choosing to love another...until I began to discover my own true voice, true face, true beauty. In discovering my real self I became truly free to choose.
I am 5 days out from graduating from Mars Hill Graduate School with a Masters in Counseling Psychology. There truly are no words to describe my gratitude for this experience. It is not just an institution that I am thankful for - because anyone who has experienced Mars Hill quickly discovers that it is about the people you walk beside on this journey. So I am thankful for the people that make up this institution. I am thankful for the books I've read and the papers I've wrestled through. I am thankful for God's hand in it all. It truly is a place where text.soul.culture are embodied...they are made tangible, real, fleshy.
One week from tomorrow I will be returning to Colorado. It is no longer the place that I call home because I have actually discovered a home in my own soul. It is there that I have taken up residency and don't plan on ever leaving. Thank you MHGS, for helping me find home...a place where love simply abounds.
Now, nearly four years later, we are about to return to Colorado, the place we used to call home. It's strange to think that it no longer feels like home. At about the three month mark of our time in Uganda I remember thinking that there was no way we could handle being away from all of our friends and family for the three years it would take me to complete a masters degree at MHGS. The months we spent living in a foreign country almost entirely on our own left us feeling a kind of loneliness that I think few people experience in their lifetime. We were fortunate to have one another - and at the same time it was that level of "togetherness" that revealed so much of the brokenness that had been covered up by the distractions of our daily lives before that season.
It was the isolation we experienced in Uganda that Brian and I were forced to face the fracture of our marriage. And it was because of this fracture that we decided not to return after we had traveled to Colorado for Christmas that year. Unsure of what our next step should be, we moved to California to live with my dad so that both Brian and I could work and attempt to save up the necessary funds we would need in order to relocate to the Pacific Northwest so that I could pursue further education. The six months we spent living in California were not necessarily any easier than living in another country. It was the first time since I was five years of age that I had spent any extended amount of time with my father. There I was, a grown woman with three kids of her own, discovering that the wound from his absence in my life was still very much a part of who I had come to be and how I had come to relate to others.
In that six months Brian and I wrestled with our plans for our future. We questioned if such a thing as "our future" even existed anymore. After having grown up in a broken family I never imagined that divorce would be a word in my own relational vocabulary. And yet, we were at our breaking point. Neither of us knew what to do. Years of marriage counseling. Years of seeking out advice from spiritual advisors, friends, and family. Nothing seemed to help. We couldn't help but wonder if the stress of relocating a family of five and the demands of grad school were just simply too much for our fragile relationship to withstand.
So Brian and I were forced to get really real with each other. I know that's horrible grammar...but there's no other way for me to describe it. We had to speak honestly to one another...like really honest. The kind of stuff you only write in journals when you think no one else will ever read them. We spoke of the possibility of divorce and wondered about what that would look like. We talked about our ideas around custody and how we would still be co-parents and that we would have to get over ourselves so that we could celebrate every holiday and birthday together as a family. It was perhaps the most difficult conversation of my life. We also talked about the financial struggles such a decision would inevitably create. And that's when we both agreed that we simply had to move so that I could acquire the degree necessary for me to pursue a career that would make it possible for me to survive with while raising our three girls in a joint-custody situation.
It's so crazy for me to think that it was because we were contemplating divorce that we set sail on this journey three years ago. Sure there were plenty of other things set in motion to point me in this particular direction towards this particular school. But the possibility of us divorcing was one of the deciding factors. We were both hopeful that the experience would help us find one another again, but I don't think either of us really believed such a thing actually was possible.
There were a lot of things that happened in this journey that I never would have believed possible three years ago. And the most surprising has been that somewhere along this road I fell in love with my husband. I had always cared deeply for him before...but I'm not sure that I had really been capable of loving another...choosing to love another...until I began to discover my own true voice, true face, true beauty. In discovering my real self I became truly free to choose.
I am 5 days out from graduating from Mars Hill Graduate School with a Masters in Counseling Psychology. There truly are no words to describe my gratitude for this experience. It is not just an institution that I am thankful for - because anyone who has experienced Mars Hill quickly discovers that it is about the people you walk beside on this journey. So I am thankful for the people that make up this institution. I am thankful for the books I've read and the papers I've wrestled through. I am thankful for God's hand in it all. It truly is a place where text.soul.culture are embodied...they are made tangible, real, fleshy.
One week from tomorrow I will be returning to Colorado. It is no longer the place that I call home because I have actually discovered a home in my own soul. It is there that I have taken up residency and don't plan on ever leaving. Thank you MHGS, for helping me find home...a place where love simply abounds.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Day #30...
A few days ago I was overjoyed to share a meal in honor of one of my professors. She was my first-year practicum leader. My fellow MHGSers know something of the uniqueness of this kind of relationship. But for those of you need some further explanation let me simply say this - she walked beside a small group of us as we began the process of growing a mind to see ourselves and the world around us in new and sometimes painful ways. She is a woman who is often referred to as the "good enough mother" of MHGS. To me, she is one of the only women in my life who call forth the little girl in me. When she simply looks into my eyes I am aware of longing to curl up in her lap to cry and to rage at the lack of nurturance, love, acceptance and connection that has marked so many lives. At this special lunch, my professor (a.k.a. my psychological mother) reminded us (her psychological daughters) of the fact that we all need mothers...or mothering throughout our lives...and that perhaps the most difficult task is to mother ourselves.
I have been in need of much mothering in the past week. And I'm feeling this need more acutely today. I'm trying to learn what it means to clean up my own vomit (as I had to do for Krisalyn yesterday) - to comfort and soothe myself while something inside is making me feel sick and uncomfortable. I need someone to see past my foul mood and the way it is being projected onto everyone and everything else so that someone can help me make sense of why I feel the way I do right now (something I've attempted to help Faith with tonight). I am longing for someone to hold me and to tell me that though the world around me feels like it's chaotically and uncontrollably shifting that the love they have for me is constant, stable, unconditional and accessible.
Learning how to mother and care for others has always been a passion in my life. It's mothering myself that feels like the much more difficult task.
I have been in need of much mothering in the past week. And I'm feeling this need more acutely today. I'm trying to learn what it means to clean up my own vomit (as I had to do for Krisalyn yesterday) - to comfort and soothe myself while something inside is making me feel sick and uncomfortable. I need someone to see past my foul mood and the way it is being projected onto everyone and everything else so that someone can help me make sense of why I feel the way I do right now (something I've attempted to help Faith with tonight). I am longing for someone to hold me and to tell me that though the world around me feels like it's chaotically and uncontrollably shifting that the love they have for me is constant, stable, unconditional and accessible.
Learning how to mother and care for others has always been a passion in my life. It's mothering myself that feels like the much more difficult task.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Mission: Care for Self Day #9
I am beginning to wonder if this looming sickness will ever depart from our household. We attempted to usher the girls off to school today despite not being 100% and an hour later I received a call from the school that Bailey just wasn't holding up very well. Poor Miss B. She always seems to be more significantly impacted by the illnesses that pass through our household. And so I was homebound yet another day. It was a bit of a bummer since the sun managed to stay out for most of the day in our neck of the woods.
After going through a roller coaster of emotions as I surveyed the internet to see what jobs are available in the mental health arena all morning, I decided it was time for me to start cracking into my reading for this next and final term. So what does that have to do with self care? That's what I'm about to reveal. Geesh. For this last term I just so happen to be taking a class titled C.S. Lewis: Theological Perspectives for Spiritual Formation. I'm super excited about the class...except for the fact that there are 13 books for this 8 week class (hence the need to start reading NOW). I have read most of C.S. Lewis' more popular...and perhaps more serious literature but only recently began reading his Chronicles of Narnia series. Brian got the set for free a little while ago (a little perk for being a teacher is that sometimes you get free books!) and we started reading it from the beginning with the girls. And this was before I even knew I was going to take the class.
I love entering into a world of fantasy...always have, but was never exposed to really good literature when I was young. There is something about getting lost in a story that is entirely other-worldly. It's an escape in one sense, but more fully it is about the igniting of imagination. I try to envision every detail written on the page as if I were actually in the scene somewhere. The symbolism - of course, is what I am most curious about and somehow I always seem to find a way to feel connected to these fantasy worlds. They offer a new paradigm. I've decided that this is a form of mental play that I deeply enjoy.
Now...I'll let you know if I still feel the same way after finishing all 13 books, a group project, a serious paper and a quiz.
After going through a roller coaster of emotions as I surveyed the internet to see what jobs are available in the mental health arena all morning, I decided it was time for me to start cracking into my reading for this next and final term. So what does that have to do with self care? That's what I'm about to reveal. Geesh. For this last term I just so happen to be taking a class titled C.S. Lewis: Theological Perspectives for Spiritual Formation. I'm super excited about the class...except for the fact that there are 13 books for this 8 week class (hence the need to start reading NOW). I have read most of C.S. Lewis' more popular...and perhaps more serious literature but only recently began reading his Chronicles of Narnia series. Brian got the set for free a little while ago (a little perk for being a teacher is that sometimes you get free books!) and we started reading it from the beginning with the girls. And this was before I even knew I was going to take the class.
I love entering into a world of fantasy...always have, but was never exposed to really good literature when I was young. There is something about getting lost in a story that is entirely other-worldly. It's an escape in one sense, but more fully it is about the igniting of imagination. I try to envision every detail written on the page as if I were actually in the scene somewhere. The symbolism - of course, is what I am most curious about and somehow I always seem to find a way to feel connected to these fantasy worlds. They offer a new paradigm. I've decided that this is a form of mental play that I deeply enjoy.
Now...I'll let you know if I still feel the same way after finishing all 13 books, a group project, a serious paper and a quiz.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Link...
I have had the privilege of intersecting paths with many remarkable people during my time at MHGS. One such individual is a gifted woman and artist named Heather who vulnerably and ingeniously invited our student body to experience Lent in a new way through 7 weeks of performance art. I was only able to attend three of these performances and was deeply moved by each piece. She posted a blog about the experience here. If I have learned anything during my time at this school it has been that I desperately need to be surrounded by people willing to take creative risks and people with the audacity to stretch imagination. Heather's creativity, like many others, has been food to my hungry soul.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
I'm gonna miss this stuff...
I'm currently entrenched in a 3-day course called The Theology of Eroticism. Expect future posts regarding the thoughts being stirred on this particular subject (perhaps after I finish all of the papers I have due in the coming weeks). But until then, I've posted this video showcasing the two professors that are teaching this class. They are classic characters and have been best friends since the 7th grade. And so without further adieu, I present Dr. Tremper Longman III and Dr. Dan Allender.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Theology of Eratosthenes
One of my friends from school put together these two videos in an effort to artistically portray his own theology at the end of last term. He has granted me permission to post them here for your own viewing and interaction.
Looking For God, Part 1: Loneliness from Tos Fackenthall on Vimeo.
Looking For God, Part Two (In Relation) from Tos Fackenthall on Vimeo.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
I'll be back...shortly
Last night of playing "catch up" on this term. Tomorrow at 3:00 I will officially be done with one more term!!!
Oh...to have the space necessary to really think and truly speak. I am awaiting.
Until then, I'll leave you this link. Please read it. It is a reflection of the transformative nature of my school (a place I have grown unbelievably attached to). Floods of emotion are now bursting forth as I am nearing the end of this segment of my journey.
Oh...to have the space necessary to really think and truly speak. I am awaiting.
Until then, I'll leave you this link. Please read it. It is a reflection of the transformative nature of my school (a place I have grown unbelievably attached to). Floods of emotion are now bursting forth as I am nearing the end of this segment of my journey.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Twilight Conversation
With all the hype posted all over facebook about the release of New Moon (book two of the Twilight series) I felt compelled to say something about it! I have not read any of the books. Brian read Twililght because so many of the kids in the elementary school where he teaches were talking about it (along with quite a few of the teachers and mothers of the students). I have, however, watched the first movie which I hear is nothing compared to the books. I am sure that is true. I have also heard from many close female friends of how fabulous the entire series is.
The problem for me initially was the fanaticism. Yes, I realize that I could have been considered by some to be a fanatic of Lord of the Rings (which is why someone decided to gift me with an Aragorn doll that can be found currenly resting contentedly in the bottom of a container filled with my daughters' Barbie dolls). BUT typically, wherever fanaticism rears it's head...something inside my belly begins to squirm. This little squirming sensation is cautioning me, perhaps, to inquire about what it is that is so magnectic about the text/movie/tv show and what does it reveal about the culture for which we live, eat, consume and think within. The Twilight movie was problematic for me on many levels (not just because of the unconvincing acting and the climbing of trees). But, I know I must refrain from solidifying any opinions until I read the texts and engage in deeper dialogue with those who have found something of significant value in this series.
However, there is a lovely and talented woman from my school who has devoted much of her studies this year to exploring this subject. I have read many of her book reviews in the recent years and find that we have a similar passion for probing literature in the hope of discovering what it can reveal about humanity and culture. I have created links below to her initial thoughts on the four books in this series. (My favorite is her review on book 4 - primarily because of the discussion that ensues in the comments section of the post).
Book 1 - Twilight
Book 2 - New Moon
Book 3 - Eclipse
Book 4 - Breaking Dawn
The problem for me initially was the fanaticism. Yes, I realize that I could have been considered by some to be a fanatic of Lord of the Rings (which is why someone decided to gift me with an Aragorn doll that can be found currenly resting contentedly in the bottom of a container filled with my daughters' Barbie dolls). BUT typically, wherever fanaticism rears it's head...something inside my belly begins to squirm. This little squirming sensation is cautioning me, perhaps, to inquire about what it is that is so magnectic about the text/movie/tv show and what does it reveal about the culture for which we live, eat, consume and think within. The Twilight movie was problematic for me on many levels (not just because of the unconvincing acting and the climbing of trees). But, I know I must refrain from solidifying any opinions until I read the texts and engage in deeper dialogue with those who have found something of significant value in this series.
However, there is a lovely and talented woman from my school who has devoted much of her studies this year to exploring this subject. I have read many of her book reviews in the recent years and find that we have a similar passion for probing literature in the hope of discovering what it can reveal about humanity and culture. I have created links below to her initial thoughts on the four books in this series. (My favorite is her review on book 4 - primarily because of the discussion that ensues in the comments section of the post).
Book 1 - Twilight
Book 2 - New Moon
Book 3 - Eclipse
Book 4 - Breaking Dawn
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Am I one of the trees born of Thee –
The Sun, The Rain, and The Earth?
This – what I long to know, to grow, to love-
This is my question for You, of You, by You.
Will You answer me JUST this once,
Or have You answered already
In ways I’ve yet to hear?
I have heard it once said -
You are the vine and I am the branch.
But how can this be –
Am I just an extension of Thee?
They say you are a HE
So then where is the ME that is not a HE?
Am I the leaf, the adornment of the branch
For whom most of the HEs claim to be?
Am I one of the trees born of Thee –
The Sun, The Rain, and The Earth?
This – what I long to know, to grow, to love-
This is my question for You, of You, by You.
Will You answer me JUST this once,
Or have You answered already
In ways I’ve yet to hear?
If I am a tree born of all three of Thee,
Could it be that I am then somehow a me -
Created through, for and in your miraculous
Conception, intersection, interpenetration?
If this is the truth of how I came to be,
Then why can’t I find my way
Back to the safety, security, synchronicity
Of your womb of three?
Why must I be ME and not hide in Thee?
Am I one of the trees born of Thee –
The Sun, The Rain, and The Earth?
This – what I long to know, to grow, to love-
This is my question for You, of You, by You.
Will You answer me JUST this once,
Or have You answered already
In ways I’ve yet to hear?
If I am a tree and You are Thee,
The Sun, The Rain and The Earth
Then might you explain this to me –
Created out of, into, or both/and,
Where are You and Me and We?
You see, this is the dance we do – You and Me,
Sun, Rain, Earth, Vines, Branches, Leaves and All
Am I one of the trees born of Thee –
The Sun, The Rain, and The Earth?
This – what I long to know, to grow, to love-
This is my question for You, of You, by You.
Will You answer me Just this once,
Or have You answered already
In the dance of WE?
The Sun, The Rain, and The Earth?
This – what I long to know, to grow, to love-
This is my question for You, of You, by You.
Will You answer me JUST this once,
Or have You answered already
In ways I’ve yet to hear?
I have heard it once said -
You are the vine and I am the branch.
But how can this be –
Am I just an extension of Thee?
They say you are a HE
So then where is the ME that is not a HE?
Am I the leaf, the adornment of the branch
For whom most of the HEs claim to be?
Am I one of the trees born of Thee –
The Sun, The Rain, and The Earth?
This – what I long to know, to grow, to love-
This is my question for You, of You, by You.
Will You answer me JUST this once,
Or have You answered already
In ways I’ve yet to hear?
If I am a tree born of all three of Thee,
Could it be that I am then somehow a me -
Created through, for and in your miraculous
Conception, intersection, interpenetration?
If this is the truth of how I came to be,
Then why can’t I find my way
Back to the safety, security, synchronicity
Of your womb of three?
Why must I be ME and not hide in Thee?
Am I one of the trees born of Thee –
The Sun, The Rain, and The Earth?
This – what I long to know, to grow, to love-
This is my question for You, of You, by You.
Will You answer me JUST this once,
Or have You answered already
In ways I’ve yet to hear?
If I am a tree and You are Thee,
The Sun, The Rain and The Earth
Then might you explain this to me –
Created out of, into, or both/and,
Where are You and Me and We?
You see, this is the dance we do – You and Me,
Sun, Rain, Earth, Vines, Branches, Leaves and All
Am I one of the trees born of Thee –
The Sun, The Rain, and The Earth?
This – what I long to know, to grow, to love-
This is my question for You, of You, by You.
Will You answer me Just this once,
Or have You answered already
In the dance of WE?
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Theology Project
I've been up late tonight working on this project for my theology class. It's an assignment that has consumed much of my thoughts in the past month. We were asked to creatively construct a "map" to illustrate our current understanding or questioning in regard to God in the context of relationship with Humanity...or more pointedly - God in relation to myself. Although poetry was my primary medium for this project (which allowed me an opportunity to open the questions up even moreso internally), I did attempt to draw something. Lauren, I thought you would be proud of me so I decided to post a little picture for your viewing.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
What does it mean to be human?
Our adaptability and self-transcendence work together to rob us of any sense of identity that can be derived from the world. Plasticity means that we lack a biological "home" in the cosmos. Other living beings have a discoverable "niche" in the biological framework. But biologists have yet to discover a set role for
humankind that explains our purpose for existence.
At the same time, our adaptability and self-transcedence mean that we enjoy the unique possiblity of continually experiencing our environment in new ways. We can project, envision, and plan for an existence "beyond" any "world" we create.
But for this reason, we are never completely fulfilled by any one achievment or by any one "world" we fashion as a "home" for ourselves. Rather than being at home in the world, we are continually on the move to something yet undefined. We are always seeking the new, the "future," the not yet. We continually chase that illusive "something" which surpasses the here-and-now or the status quo. We are continually shaping and reshaping our envirnoment in an unfulfilled attempt to create a "home" for ourselves.
~Stanley Grenz, Created for Community
I was reminded of this excerpt yesterday as I sat in my theology class and contemplated the notion that human beingness is about a process of becoming. These concepts are still floating around in my head and are only in the beginning stages of forming a lens for which I can peer through to make sense of life from a new vantage point...but I thought it was worth posting for others to contemplate as well.
humankind that explains our purpose for existence.
At the same time, our adaptability and self-transcedence mean that we enjoy the unique possiblity of continually experiencing our environment in new ways. We can project, envision, and plan for an existence "beyond" any "world" we create.
But for this reason, we are never completely fulfilled by any one achievment or by any one "world" we fashion as a "home" for ourselves. Rather than being at home in the world, we are continually on the move to something yet undefined. We are always seeking the new, the "future," the not yet. We continually chase that illusive "something" which surpasses the here-and-now or the status quo. We are continually shaping and reshaping our envirnoment in an unfulfilled attempt to create a "home" for ourselves.
~Stanley Grenz, Created for Community
I was reminded of this excerpt yesterday as I sat in my theology class and contemplated the notion that human beingness is about a process of becoming. These concepts are still floating around in my head and are only in the beginning stages of forming a lens for which I can peer through to make sense of life from a new vantage point...but I thought it was worth posting for others to contemplate as well.
Friday, September 11, 2009
The life of a Mommy Grad Student Intern
I'm realizing that it is going to be more of a challenge to keep up with blogging in the final stage of this three year adventure! Plus, it hasn't helped that we have had no access to internet in our new(er) apartment for the past couple of weeks. We were tapping into somebody else's wireless when we first moved in and we're pretty sure they either moved or wised up and password protected their connection. Too bad for us. So it will be a few days before we have internet (other than on our phones). It's amazing how much we've grown to rely upon something that I was officially introduced to when I was in high school - which wasn't really that long ago. Seriously...it's only been 16 years since I was a freshman in high school and signed up for my first aol account under the alias cheergirl or something like that! Okay maybe 16 years is a long enough to develop a dependency.
As I've already alluded to, life is pretty darn crazy right now. I've completed two weeks of internship and school and I've been off to a running start. I'm just praying that I can maintain the pace from now until Christmas when I'll have a brief interlude. So many thoughts have been racing through my head and I have a list of about five different blog-worthy stories or ideas...but of course I don't have the list with me right now as I'm sitting in Panera frantically attempting to get my internet-fix for the day! So instead I'll have to simply share the stirrings floating around in my head and piercing my heart in this moment.
Throughout this term I'll be insanely busy from morning till night every weekday except for Thursdays. Yesterday was my first official day off while all the kids and Bri are at school. I thought that dropping Krisalyn off at school for her first day of all-day kindergarten last Friday was going to be the BIG CRY day...but was surprised that the tears only lasted through my drive to my internship and for a few minutes after my arrival as I explained to my supervisor the significance of that day. The crying my have been prematurely cut-off because of the pressure to prepare myself for my first client later that day. Whatever the reason, I managed to cope (or distract myself) rather well that day. Suffice it to say, I was not expected to be nearly as emotional as I was yesterday after dropping the girls off at school and realizing that I would be alone for the entire day.
When I boarded the plane for my first trip to Uganda (when I went for 10 days by myself simply to become more familiar with the widow's plight so that I might assist in the development of a daily devotional or as I like to call it - Readings for Encouragment and Empowerment, something unexpected occurred. As soon as the doors of the plane were closed and securely locked I felt a lump surface in my chest -- not because I was afraid to fly or nervous about what I might encounter in the following 30+ hours of traveling, nor did I sense that it was linked solely with the anticipation of missing my girls and their daddy horribly. Instead, I sensed that it had something to do with realizing that I had not spent that much time to myself EVER in my life. I know that must sound like a ridiculous exagerration, but to my knowledge I had never spent more than a few hours in isolation (other than time spent sleeping at night and even in those times Lindsey and I often made our way to one another's bedrooms late at night in search of the comfort we found in one another's nearness). Without going off on too big of a tangent, the time I had to myself during that season of my life enabled me to begin peering into some dark and frightening doors to my heart that the constant presence of companions had distracted me from for far too long.
As I dropped Krisalyn off at her class yesterday morning I discovered that the uncomfortable and rather telling chest lump had decided to pay me another visit. But this time, I recalled the powerful nature of the time I spent alone on my way to Uganda, and I willingly allowed the lump to grow into an ache which permeated my entire body. It was an absolutely beautiful and wonderful day that consisted of two separate raw and honest conversation with great friends, a lot of cleaning (which obviously included singing loudly, dancing and more tears), and sitting on the little bench we have on our patio and refraining from dissociating for at least those moments. In those moments both joy and sorrow seemed to kiss, twirl and dip. How much I have loved the last nine years of my journey of motherhood - years of no sleep, diaper-changing, terrible (yet wonderful) twos, first smiles, first words, first recitals, first fears, first trips to the ER, first "you're mean Mommy"'s, trips to the zoo, finger painting, cookie-baking, fairy festivals, pumpkin carving, teething, personalized haircuts, and rituals of animal kisses and "how much does Mommy love you"'s.
Though many memories are yet to be made and I my role as a mommy has really only just begun in the big scheme of things, the season of having little ones at home has come to an end (at least for now). Bri and I are both still unsure of the journey ahead and whether or not we'll add to our already highly estrogen-dominant clan. But whatever happens, I am sure of one thing...I am an incredibly blessed woman to have shared in the lives of these three beautiful, strong and lovely little ladies. And I hope that this season of my life affords me the time and space to recover who I am behind all of those dark doors that have been avoided for far too long.
As I've already alluded to, life is pretty darn crazy right now. I've completed two weeks of internship and school and I've been off to a running start. I'm just praying that I can maintain the pace from now until Christmas when I'll have a brief interlude. So many thoughts have been racing through my head and I have a list of about five different blog-worthy stories or ideas...but of course I don't have the list with me right now as I'm sitting in Panera frantically attempting to get my internet-fix for the day! So instead I'll have to simply share the stirrings floating around in my head and piercing my heart in this moment.
Throughout this term I'll be insanely busy from morning till night every weekday except for Thursdays. Yesterday was my first official day off while all the kids and Bri are at school. I thought that dropping Krisalyn off at school for her first day of all-day kindergarten last Friday was going to be the BIG CRY day...but was surprised that the tears only lasted through my drive to my internship and for a few minutes after my arrival as I explained to my supervisor the significance of that day. The crying my have been prematurely cut-off because of the pressure to prepare myself for my first client later that day. Whatever the reason, I managed to cope (or distract myself) rather well that day. Suffice it to say, I was not expected to be nearly as emotional as I was yesterday after dropping the girls off at school and realizing that I would be alone for the entire day.
When I boarded the plane for my first trip to Uganda (when I went for 10 days by myself simply to become more familiar with the widow's plight so that I might assist in the development of a daily devotional or as I like to call it - Readings for Encouragment and Empowerment, something unexpected occurred. As soon as the doors of the plane were closed and securely locked I felt a lump surface in my chest -- not because I was afraid to fly or nervous about what I might encounter in the following 30+ hours of traveling, nor did I sense that it was linked solely with the anticipation of missing my girls and their daddy horribly. Instead, I sensed that it had something to do with realizing that I had not spent that much time to myself EVER in my life. I know that must sound like a ridiculous exagerration, but to my knowledge I had never spent more than a few hours in isolation (other than time spent sleeping at night and even in those times Lindsey and I often made our way to one another's bedrooms late at night in search of the comfort we found in one another's nearness). Without going off on too big of a tangent, the time I had to myself during that season of my life enabled me to begin peering into some dark and frightening doors to my heart that the constant presence of companions had distracted me from for far too long.
As I dropped Krisalyn off at her class yesterday morning I discovered that the uncomfortable and rather telling chest lump had decided to pay me another visit. But this time, I recalled the powerful nature of the time I spent alone on my way to Uganda, and I willingly allowed the lump to grow into an ache which permeated my entire body. It was an absolutely beautiful and wonderful day that consisted of two separate raw and honest conversation with great friends, a lot of cleaning (which obviously included singing loudly, dancing and more tears), and sitting on the little bench we have on our patio and refraining from dissociating for at least those moments. In those moments both joy and sorrow seemed to kiss, twirl and dip. How much I have loved the last nine years of my journey of motherhood - years of no sleep, diaper-changing, terrible (yet wonderful) twos, first smiles, first words, first recitals, first fears, first trips to the ER, first "you're mean Mommy"'s, trips to the zoo, finger painting, cookie-baking, fairy festivals, pumpkin carving, teething, personalized haircuts, and rituals of animal kisses and "how much does Mommy love you"'s.
Though many memories are yet to be made and I my role as a mommy has really only just begun in the big scheme of things, the season of having little ones at home has come to an end (at least for now). Bri and I are both still unsure of the journey ahead and whether or not we'll add to our already highly estrogen-dominant clan. But whatever happens, I am sure of one thing...I am an incredibly blessed woman to have shared in the lives of these three beautiful, strong and lovely little ladies. And I hope that this season of my life affords me the time and space to recover who I am behind all of those dark doors that have been avoided for far too long.
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