Being Broken

One of the daily readings books I have going this year is Henri Nouwen's Bread For the Journey. The reading from this book for today is one that has hit me where I am, and I wanted to share it with you...

Being Broken
—Henri Nouwen

Jesus was broken on the cross. He lived his suffering and death not as an evil to avoid at all costs but a mission to embrace. We too are broken. We live with broken bodies, broken hearts, broken minds, or broken spirits. We suffer from broken relationships.

How can we live in our brokenness? Jesus invites us to embrace our brokenness as he embraced the cross and live it as part of our mission. He asks us not to reject our brokenness as a curse from God that reminds us of our sinfulness but to accept it and put it under God's blessing for our purification and sanctification. Thus, our brokenness can become a gateway to new life.

May we all find God's peace in our brokenness...

As Each Day Requires {#178-190}

"Christ... is always there at the door of our souls, wanting to enter in, though he does not force our consent. If we agree to his entry, he enters; directly we cease to want him, he is gone. We cannot bind our will today for tomorrow; we cannot make a pact with him that tomorrow he will be with us, even in spite of ourselves. Our consent to his presence is the same as his presence. Consent is an act. It can only be actual, that is to say in the present. We have not been given a will that can be applied to the future." —Simone Weil

You know those times when it seems like God is trying to get you to pay attention to something, and in your humanness, you either write it off to coincidence, ignore it for the diversion of whatever is in front of you, or you just simply don't get it?

Yeah, I'm having one of those times.

My favorite Moleskine journal happens to be my very first one. Christmas 2006, my friend Ang gave me a Moleskine Plain Reporter's Notebook, and with that fantastic gift, my love of all things Moleskine was born. In this notebook, over the years, I have a collection of words—not only mine, but quotes of others, sermon notes, song lyrics, meeting notes—and even the occasional illustration or doodle. This journal contains my very favorite of things that I never want to leave home without.

When I was wandering through the journal last week, I once again was taken by the above Simone Weil quote... and this idea that we only have today.

This is something I struggle with. When I begin something, I want to know that I have the ability/resources/will power/ whatever to be able to continue doing something for the rest of my life. In my mind, if it is worth doing right now, it is worth doing forever... and conversely, if I cannot do it forever, then why should I bother doing it right now?

I also like to live in the future, to dream of the good things to come. A visit with my family, a new book, wandering the streets of Paris... somehow these things become much more delightful to dream about than whatever I am supposed to be focused on right now.

Ridiculous, right?!

Then in yesterday's Life Journal readings, I read Solomon's speech as the temple was completed, and noticed this in 1 Kings...

"Let these words of mine, which I have pleaded before the Lord, be near to the Lord our God day and night, that he may maintain the cause of his servant and the cause of his people Israel, as each day requires, the peoples of the earth may know that the Lord is God; there is no other. Let your heart therefore be wholly true to the Lord our God, walking in his statutes and keeping his commandments, as at this day." {vs. 59-61, italics mine}

As each day requires. Solomon, in all his wisdom, understood what Simone Weil also got, that all we have is today.

Each day must be lived on its own. I cannot change the past, I cannot manipulate the future, the only thing I have in my hands is today, this moment. This is the place, the arena, the playground where I can make the good choices, make a difference, make my mark, make my stand, make a life.

Here—today—is where I live.

The gifts I count today...

178:: homemade strawberry scones baking in the oven.

179:: the smell of freshly cut grass.

180:: waking in the gently falling rain.

181:: poetry. all poetry.

182:: seeing an opportunity to help a stranger, taking it, and seeing the gratitude in eyes I will never see again.

183:: super fun paper clips!

184:: holiday weekends, the chance to slow down.

185:: a steaming cup of tea on a cool, rainy evening.

186:: attempting a new slow cooker recipe, and having it be a success.

187:: hearing Jayden sing in the background while I talked to his dad on the phone.

188:: a telephone conversation with Nicky, the birthday boy, hearing how grown up he sounds, and simultaneously how funny he is.

189:: getting a chance to talk to Loralie.

190:: for today...for all that today will hold, all that it won't hold, and the grace to live it to the full.

tension

I think I have loved Henri Nouwen's writing since the moment I was introduced to his books. His words seem to me to be the perfect combination of wisdom, humility, passion, and holiness. Reading his beautiful daybook, Bread For The Journey has been such a treat so far this year, and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last year that I do so.

Every once in a while, a day sticks out in my mind. Perhaps the topic, or maybe just where my head happens to be that day, but there seems to be one every once in a while that I just cannot get out of my head.

The reading from April 6 is just such an example...

Being Humble and Confident
—Henri Nouwen, Bread For The Journey, April 6

As we look at the stars and let our minds wander into the many galaxies, we come to feel so small and insignificant that anything we do, say, or think seems completely useless. But if we look into our souls and let our minds wander into the endless galaxies of our interior lives, we become so tall and significant that everything we do, say, or think appears to be of great importance.

We have to keep looking both ways to remain humble and confident, humorous and serious, playful and responsible. Yes, the human being is very small and very tall. It is the tension between the two that keeps us spiritually awake.

The tension between the two keeps us spiritually awake. I think it is easy to live on either side of a spectrum in this life of a Christ follower. It would be easy to err on the side that Jesus is love, and it really doesn't matter what I do so long as I am happy, simply because Jesus loves me. Conversely, it would be easy to take the role of the zealous, hyper-holy follower of Jesus, removing myself from the world to remove all temptation, never engage in culture for fear that it will taint and make me unholy, and be unswerving in my judgments, never allowing love to factor in.

Jesus hasn't called us to either extreme, but rather to a life of tension. Tension between the 'anything goes' and the 'everything goes'. Tension between how life is today, and how I want it to be. Tension between hating the sin and loving the sinner. Tension between the holiness that I would settle for, and the true one that God has called me to.

Henri is, once again, beautifully right. Without this tension, I would easily be asleep.

choosing joy

i am truly enjoying the books of daily readings that i've undertaken for this year. the three of them are all so different, that each brings a very different element to my day, and they all seem to be taking turns being any particular day's favorite.

yesterday's favorite, however, was easy to call... and something i needed {and still need} to hear.

Choosing Joy
by Henri Nouwen, Bread For The Journey {January 30}

Joy is what makes life worth living, but for many joy seems hard to find. They complain that their lives are sorrowful and depressing. What then brings the joy we so much desire? Are some people just lucky, while others have run out of luck? Strange as it may sound, we can choose joy. Two people can be part of the same event, but one may choose to live it quite differently from the other. One may choose to trust that what happened, painful as it may be, holds a promise. The other may choose despair and be destroyed by it.

What makes us human is precisely this freedom of choice.

i choose joy.

wonder

i was sorting through the memories and memorabilia from my recent trip to New York City the other day, and came across my NYC Metro Card, where i found this quote on the back:

"Within five miles of where you live, there are enough strange things to keep you wondering all your life. Probably in your dooryard may be found enough to employ the intellect of a strong man; one of the great discoveries in science was made by a man cultivating the ordinary garden pea." —E. W. Howe

may you find and enjoy all the wonder hidden within your world.

voices

these past few weeks have been rough.

i have dealt with emotions and gone places i never anticipated going, all in my mind. it hasn't been a party, and i have not at all enjoyed it.

one thing i have learned—or more accurately, relearned— is the importance of what you allow the voices to tell you, and how much validity you place on those voices. that not every thought that finds its way into your head is truth and worthy of thinking about.

with all this in mind, i came across this prayer this morning. i have quoted from Prayers for a Privileged People by Walter Brueggemann before, and i am fairly sure this won't be the last time...

Hearing Better Voices
        on reading the prophets

We make a pause
    amid many voices—
        some innocent and some seductive,
        some violent and some coercive,
        some forgiven and genuine,
        some not.

Amid this cacophony that pulls us
        in many directions,
    we have these old voices of your prophets;
    these voices to attest to
        your fierce self,
        your severe summons,
        your generous promise,
        your abiding presence.

Give us good ears,
    perchance you have a word for us tonight;
Give us grace and courage to listen,
                                                  to answer,
                                                  to care,
                                                  and to rejoice,
    that we may be more fully your people.

this is my prayer today.

re-malleable

{i originally wrote and posted this back in 2005. but the quote has been haunting me yet again, so i thought i would update and re-share it with you.}

i love margaret becker's writing. back before she wrote books, her songs haunted me, as though she lived inside my closet, her lyrics echoing all that was going on inside me. when i read her first book, about thirteen years ago, one line of With New Eyes struck me, and has continued to stick with me over the years. it has practically become my mantra.

the most that i could ever hope to be is malleable. someone who actually listens and considers a point. someone who does not see it as a loss to concede their wrongs. someone who is not afraid to change. with change comes the ability to be strong; because when one recognizes their own fallibility, the threat of it is diminished—and the freedom of growth develops. to be wrong is to be free.

the most that i could ever hope for is to be malleable. to this day, this remains my prayer. i am well aware of how stubborn i can be. no one gets called tête de pioche as a child because she is compliant. if left unchecked, that stubborn child makes far too many appearances.

i want to be able to see where i am in the light of where i've come from, all the while envisioning where i still need to go. in short, i want to not be the same tomorrow as i am today. i don't want my relationship with God never to change me. i don't want to be someone who, at best, others tolerate, because i refuse to let myself be changed.

the most i can hope for is to be malleable.

may this always be my prayer.

numbering

how did it get so late so soon?
it's night before it's afternoon.
december is here before its june.
my goodness how the time has flewn.
how did it get so late so soon? | dr. seuss

life really does go by so very fast. sitting down to write this morning, i was struck by the feeling that it was only moments ago that i was starting a friday, and had the weekend ahead of me. and here it was, already monday, with a whole week between the next weekend and i.

how does this happen?

Psalm 90:12 has a prayer i need to pray more as i move through my days...

teach us to realize the brevity of life,
        so that we may grow in wisdom. {NLT}

this is my prayer today.

He is risen.

the Christian religion asks us to put our trust not in ideas, and certainly not in ideologies, but in a God who was vulnerable enough to become human and die, and who desires to be present to us in ordinary circumstances. | Kathleen Norris

* * * * *

today, after this morning's easter worship service at PORTICO, i will meet my dad at the airport, and we will drive down to the southern most part of the country, for the funeral of my uncle silvio.

i've never been on a road trip with just dad before. usually dad goes on road trips with my brothers, and when we lived in the same province, mom and i did go on one or two. so while the reason for the trip is one of sadness, i am happy for the chance to do this with my dad.

it is a wonderment to me that it has been over ten years since i have seen many of my aunts, uncles and cousins. it will be good to be among people with whom i share so much history.

i love this quote by Kathleen Norris, and it fits with how i'm feeling today. as much as we would like to believe that we are invincible, death is as much a part of life as birth. after all, tomorrow evening i will walk through the doors of the funeral home that only ten months ago i walked through to say good-bye to my grandfather for the last time.

two funerals in ten months.

in the past ten months, we have only had one new arrival to my immediate family, making the exit from this world more ordinary than the entrance.

i need a God whose desire is to be in my ordinary circumstances. mostly because i'm not always sure i can handle the commonplace on my own, even on a good day.

so, this morning, my heart is filled with gratitude and worship for this risen Jesus.

He is risen, indeed.

simple

it seems to be another time of sleep eluding me. for the most part, once i am asleep, i am {unless dragged out} able to stay there. but the act of falling asleep seems like gambling... not a lot of return for the effort and desire expended.

not sleeping is generally a time to pull out my journal, and go through all that is written in there. the Moleskine that i carry with me every day has everything in it from my own writing, to Rilke's poetry to quotes to sermon notes.

this is one of the quotes in my journal...

men invent means and methods of coming at God's love, they learn rules and set up devices to remind them of that love, and it seems like a world of trouble to bring oneself into the consciousness of God's presence. yet it might be so simple. is it not quicker and easier just to do our common business wholly for the love of him? | Brother Lawrence

i am such an inventor of means and methods at coming at God's love. i know that too often i make things more difficult than they actually are, perhaps partly because of my personality, but probably mostly so that i, myself will feel more worthy.

so i can feel more worthy? what kind of craziness is that?

God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. | Romans 5:8

given the complexity that i usually create in my life, i love the simplicity that Brother Lawrence presents in these few words.

might it really be so simple?

happy pooh day

today just happens to be winnie the pooh day.

to celebrate this felicitous occasion, here is one of my very favorite pooh quotes...

if ever there is tomorrow when we're not together
there is something you must always remember.
you are braver than you believe,
stronger than you seem,
and smarter than you think.
but the most important thing is,
even if we're apart...
i'll always be with you. | winnie the pooh

consider how you listen

do you ever notice a theme recurring in your life?

as i've lived through the eight days already behind me in this year, there has been one repeating theme, and that is of listening. the most recent occurrence being in this morning's devotions, when in the book of Luke, after explaining the parable of the sower to his disciples, Jesus said,

"consider carefully how you listen".

to be honest, i don't know if i have ever considered {carefully or otherwise} how i listen. but given the fact that this seems to be the theme of this year so far, i am going to have to change this. perhaps 2010 will be the year of listening.

* * * * *

it is the province of knowledge to speak,
and it is the privilege of wisdom to listen. | oliver wendell holmes

beginnings

as i am sure you've noticed by my lack of posts, i am having a difficult time getting back into the swing of things. a busy christmas season followed by a very busy nine days with the family, throw in a two hour time difference, and 2010 has not seen the early riser that i know i can be.

so in this, my first post of the year... decade, even, i would be greatly remiss if i didn't begin with a quote from one of my two favorite men—writers, of course.

this is from a relatively new book called A Year with Rilke: Daily Readings from the Best of Rainer Maria Rilke. this is the reading from january 1.

i choose to begin
ranier maria rilke

i love all beginnings, despite their anxiousness and their uncertainty, which belong to every commencement. if i have earned a pleasure or reward, or if i wish that something had not happened; if i doubt the worth of an experience and remain in my past—then i choose to begin at this very second.

begin what? i begin. i have already thus begun a thousand lives.

seeing

i don't believe i have ever ridden a city's metro system and not heard strains of music from a musician playing within the subway system. paris. kiev. london. toronto. it doesn't matter where you are, the underground seems to call musicians to be the soundtrack for commuters.

in my travels, however, i don't seem to recall ever not quickly walking past these rush hour artists in an effort to get where i was going, even when i was on vacation. perhaps it is the nature of a metro station that makes loitering for any reason seem vaguely wrong.

much like the 'tree falling in the woods and no one hearing it' question, i ran across this article in the washington post online about whether or not commuters would stop and listen if a world-renowned violinist was the one providing their transit melodies.

violinist joshua bell, who shortly before this experiment, played at symphony hall in boston for no less than $100 a seat. but on a friday morning last january, donned in some rather banal attire and accompanied by his stradivarius, he set himself up in washington's l'enfant plaza station beside a trash basket, and gave what should have been an amazing gift to all who passed by.

the article goes on to say that very few of that morning's commuters had any clue that the music that they could not help but hear was played by a master. most rushed past in an effort to get on with their day.

earth's crammed with heaven,
and every common bush afire with God;
but only he who sees,
takes off his shoes—
the rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

—elizabeth barrett browning

it makes me wonder how many amazing moments i rush past in my efforts to live life. would i, on that cold friday morning, have been one of the few who recognized the strains of genius, and in essence, taken off my shoes, or would i have been one of the many unseeing crowd, rushing off to whatever else? i fear that the answer is not the one i would want it to be.

* * * * *

God, open my eyes and ears to the extraordinary moments of life, however small they are. let me not be in such a rush to live my life that i forget that, as frederick buechner said, "all moments are key moments and life itself is grace."

to hope...

to hope means to be ready at every moment for that which is not yet born, and yet not become desperate if there is no birth in our lifetime. | emily dickinson

happy december

from december to march,
there are for many of us three gardens— the garden outdoors,
the garden of pots and bowls
in the house, and the garden of
the mind's eye. | katherine s. white

...and for many {myself included} there is the garden of the unreal, which, blissfully, we cannot kill.

happy december!

coffee

a cup of coffee—real coffee— home-browned, home ground, home made, that comes to you dark as a hazel-eye, but changes to a golden bronze as you temper it with cream that never cheated, but was real cream from its birth, thick, tenderly yellow, perfectly sweet, neither lumpy nor frothing on the java: such a cup of coffee is a match for twenty blue devils and will exorcise them all. | henry ward beecher

i think he takes his coffee as seriously as i do... maybe a bit more!

photo taken at a starbucks
on the boulevard saint-michel, paris, may 2006

gates of hell

man enjoys living on the edge of his dreams
and neglects the real things of the world
which are so beautiful.
the ignorant and indifferent
destroy beautiful things
merely by looking at them.
[things that] remake the soul of him
who understands them. | auguste rodin

i took this photo of auguste rodin's the gates of hell at the rodin museum gardens in paris in march of 2008. in an effort to get the sculpture without people in front of it, i waited. and waited. and waited! these three people, who were not together, simply wouldn't leave. then suddenly there was this moment when they were all standing right in front of it looking up, as the three shades on the top of the sculpture were looking down at them. i couldn't resist myself.

laugh

every day is a fresh beginning,

every morn is the world made new. | sarah chauncey woolsey

it's monday, and truth be told, i am tired. i'm really not sure why i've been so tired lately, discounting, of course, last thursday evening's visit back to my teenage years!

this fall season has gone by so quickly, it's been quite crazy. last night at PORTICO, we said goodbye to phil and marisa aud, who are leaving us for a church in georgia. i'm really excited for them, i love new beginnings, and they really have waited so long for this, but they will definitely be missed. enjoy your adventure, my friends!

it's been 11 months since i have seen the majority of my family, and i am counting the days (38 days, 10 hours, 19 minutes) until my plane leaves. i'm so looking forward to spending a week with them, especially with my favorite little people... who are looking less and less like little people every day. one thing is certain, i will laugh. just look at that picture! how could you not laugh with such awesomeness happening just for your entertainment?!


so, no matter what this week holds, enjoy it. and don't forget to laugh!

art

art, like morality,
consists in drawing the line
somewhere. | g.k. chesterton