Ember

I must indulge the fact that the ebb and flow of life is more fluid than I like to believe.
I move with that current in subtle anticipation of what You will accomplish,
betting on the fact that Your dreams really are more vivid than mine.
Relax and contract and rise above,
these waves that toss me and cradle me in all the different phases of life and make it life.
Why can't the undertow prescript its movement to coincide with everyone's tide?
I mourn the loss of everything comfortable and embrace all that is before me.
I am all these things, capable and strong and beautiful,
turning to face the crests and run against them;
swimming into the unknown with bravery and surrender;
standing up to all my giants, looking them in the eye, and overcoming them.
The salt stings my wounds and I look up to the blinding sunlight,
Where I am rescued and made whole in Your grip--
Standing only on the promise that You are everything.
Waiting for the water to change and moving with and through the current,
burning through the embers of each white wave and
dancing, running through the ebb and flow of this story.

IJM

I just learned more about this fabulous organization... International Justice Mission. They are involved in a myriad of human rights advocacy, particularly human trafficking. Check them out:

www.ijm.org

Not a Victim

Today I attened a local/global dialogue on women and AIDS. The panel was sponsored by the UNAIDS council on women and addressed ways to empower women and thereby fight AIDS. Yes, AIDS and HIV affect men as well, but for women, particularly in developing nations, women are disadvanted and often have little negotiating power within their relationships and circumstances. And as one woman on the panel put it, women are not the victims, they are empowered to take center stage in the fight against this pandemic.

In the Q and A, I asked about the influence of religion, both positive and negative, on the fight againt AIDS. The panelists had nothing but discouraging things to say. The representative from Honduras noted that there are so few ministers do anything to help the AIDS crisis that it is impossible to locate them. An antrhopologist and lobbyist both stated the importance of the church in fighting AIDS and lamented that getting churches to do anything about it is extremely difficult.

The representative from Zambia spoke of her pain in losing both her husband and brother to the disease and blaming God when she herself contracted it. The reigning idea taught by Christian churches in her country is that HIV and AIDS is a judgement. She spoke to a council of Zambian church leaders wearing a t-shirt that said "HIV is not a punishment from God--John 8:11". In forming a support group that now boasts 1000 members, she has found joy in the church again but finds is hard to locate a congregation that does not stigmatize people with AIDS.

I wanted to apologize to every panelist for the lack of action on the part of the Church. I told one woman that she had my word I would talk to my ministers about how to help with the AIDs crisis. Get informed... I was ashamed at the lack of knowledge and perspective I had about AIDS after the dialogue. I'll fight.

What They Learn

On the last exam I ask as a bonus question what that student learned that was most interesting or how their perception of history changed after taking the course. Many of them reveal how they liked learning about the First Ladies, how important the vote was, random trivia, or the significance and breadth of women's role in the historical process.

This time around one student wrote something to the effect of "I always thought the U.S. only intervened in other places when it wanted to help them, but now I know they don't really do anything unless they'll get something out of it. I love my country, but it's done some horrible things."

This young man swore into the military in the course of my class. To be honest, I'd much rather be the teacher that empowers and excites students about all the good things in history and their lives. But sometimes the best lessons are the hard ones, the ugly ones, that change the way we think about the world we live in. Hopefully, those lessons spur us toward change.

If we don't know injustice and walls exist, we can't resist them.

Why I Believe in Miracles

Simply, because they occur.

Things that could be attributed to modern medicine, or chance, or luck, but that really could not have occurred without phenomena. They happen all the time.

I don't see them, not most of the time. I rarely even hear about them.

Because we are all so caught up in the mundane, or the past, or the future.

But tonight I was part of one. The miraculous birth of a baby girl less than two pounds. God saved her life and the mother's, seconds from danger.

Life triumphed and God has heard.

Simply, we're all the miracle, caught up in grace because it bears us like a child, saving our lives and making us strong.

For Fletch

Profound notions
Obscure my connection
To what is real.

Bracing myself for pain,
I devote my psyche
To works of reason.

Feel, as if there is
No other choice.

Living, dying
We press on.

I am the one not in control
Of the fate of the world;

I lift up my hands
In surrender,
And resolve to particpate
Freely in the human struggle.

Touch my lips,
And I will speak.

Supercentenarians

Over 60,000 people in the world are over 100 years of age.
There are enough people at or over the age of 110 to have their own name... "supercentenarians".

In that case, I am not even one quarter of the way through my life.

The Way You Decide to Move

Step lightly, slowly, often. This is the key to forgiving the things you don't know and unlocking the things you do. Don't underestimate the power of interrupted discipline, particularly when it applies to moving along. The ugly desire to be all and do all should not overshadow the desire to live well, and to be, and to persevere on every small account. Dance, and dream, and decide to move past everything you can't, and find it all waiting in the sun.

Gonna Make It

Forced by beauty and design
I carry my own weights
And wait for You to
Take them off.
Healing is only easy when it's done for you,
Not when you actively pursue it
And wait.
What we don't see is what we can't hold,
What we hope for is what we can't see.
Creat fire to burn,
Release rain to engulf,
Exude light to enlighten.
And I'll thrash through the current
That leads to better living,
And to You.

Let Them Praise His Name with Dancing

I dance with a small modern/lyrical company comprised of women who desire to see the arts brought back into churches, particularly in the form of dance. I've been doing worship dance for nearly 10 years now, starting with the summer I was 15 when I trained at the Ballet Magnificat! School of the Arts. Ballet Mag. is a professional ballet company that uses dance to communicate the Gospel in creative ways. My company seeks to do the same thing, on a much smaller scale.

This Sunday I had the opportunity to dance three different places. I started in the morning at a First baptist church. That's right, a Southern Baptist church let dancers on their stage. We went on right after the handbells and the "mature" early morning congregation and robe-donning choir welcomed us with quietly whispered amens at the conclusion of our dance.

In the afternoon, I had the privilege to dance at a Hospice service honoring those who had passed on this last year. As I read the countless names in the program and listened to the conversations of grieving loved ones, I teared up and struggled to know how best to react. A woman whose mother had died from cancer introduced herself and told us her story. Many of the people there had never met one another before; they were connected in death. Just as we all are, connected and unified and brought together under the death of Christ, under His blood, and then unto life as we live under His resurrection. The parting words of the song we danced to: "Come to Jesus and live."

I finished out the day with the evening service at my emergent church, a community that celebrates the arts in tangible ways (a portion of our space is an art gallery) but it is still an honor to be able to worship there. This was a particularly intimate evening, just the guitarist/singer, a drummer, and me. The dance was truly improvisational as I had no choreography prepared save the chorus. I moved and felt the music and the people and the Spirit all at once.

Dance, in all its forms, crosses over boundaries in ways few things can. Movement can interpret God in ways that words and music cannot. And life provides movement that must be expressed in sacred places.

What the Bible says about...

The TNIV website (and others) have this reading plan exploring how we should be involved in social justice. I think it's pretty good:

Two Weeks on Social Justice

Day 1: Exodus 3 - God hears the cries of the slaves.
Day 2: Leviticus 25 - The year of jubilee, a time of economic revolution.
Day 3: Ruth 2 - A poor woman finds help.
Day 4: 1 Kings 21 - Elijah speaks to a land-grabbing, murderous king.
Day 5: Nehemiah 5 - Nehemiah demands justice for the poor.
Day 6: Isaiah 5 - Warning to fun-loving materialists.
Day 7: Isaiah 58 - Worship that God appreciates.
Day 8: Jeremiah 34 - Freedom for slaves.
Day 9: Amos 2 - Sins against God by his own people.
Day 10 Amos 6 - Warning to the complacent.
Day 11: Micah 6 - What the Lord requires.
Day 12: Luke 3 - John the Baptist tells how to prepare for Jesus.
Day 13: Matthew 6 - Jesus speaks on material things.
Day 14: James 2 - How to treat the rich and the poor.

The Homeless King enters the City

Let me hear sounds of joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. (Psalm 51:10)

Your Body is my body, bruised and broken and crushed.

Let the wounds You have allowed be healed.

Turn and save me.

Allow and disallow and remain.

Savior, sweet Savior, draw near and stay.

Let the words of Your mouth speak clearly.

Your Body is my body, restored and healed and whole.

Making it official

Today my sister got engaged... that's right, my little sister is now officially promised to become a Mrs.! He managed to keep it a surprise and the whole thing was really beautiful. A myriad of emotions have been my companion today, but I feel I am entitled to such dramatic tendencies on the day that my only sister and closest friend gets that all important ring.

In other news, I am now the official owner of a Mac. My conversion from pc is quite certain at this point and I really do love this ibook. It takes me back to the days of playing Oregon Trail on my family's Apple II GS, oh so many years ago. I like that mac's interface allows for more than one way to do things. Is it to much to suggest that the influence of postmodern thought processes have stimulated the sales of these computers? (I should have stopped at Oregon Trail... :)

Going back to Cali

Here's some pics from my recent (spontaneous) trip to California... the sun setting over the beach at Santa Monica and the mission in Santa Barbara, where I used to live. It was about 40 degrees the whole time I was there, but it was still great!

Roads

Finding that faith
Comes in sizes unforeseen,
I remember my previous refusal
To live inside a box.
I pride myself
On being alone,
Longing all the while
To commune intimately with others.
I let myself believe
That my own path is the best way,
That my own road less traveled
Marks the way to happiness.
But marked on that road
Are shortcuts and obstacles,
Where I find myself reevaluating
The consequences of directing
My own destiny.
Providence requires a great deal of
Surrender,
And when unassisted will immediately
Change the course.
And for that I am retrospectively
Glad.
I resolve to risk,
To underestimate,
To pursue the dreams
That seem so shelved.
And I will look for those dreams
In the form of many colors,
Dancing through
And seizing each moment
For what it is worth...
And that worth is found intrinsically
In the sweet wonder
That flows from imagination
And spiritual awakening,
Eyeing all odds and changes as simultaneously
Beautiful and terrible.
My own road is not yet completely determined,
And I surrender to walk it somewhat afraid,
Journeying into the sweet mist that clouds
So many of my plans,
Grateful for each
Day,
Struggle, and
Moment.
Live easy...

A Lenten Protest

Lent is the time when the Church historically observes a period of waiting in the weeks leading up to Easter. This time is to remind us of life before Christ, to encourage us to reevaluate our commitment to God, and to deprive ourselves of some necessity. So this year for Lent I am giving up… nothing.

I am not fasting from anything, I am not conducting extra rituals or spending more time reading the Bible, and I am not quitting any habits. I have followed this portion of the Lenten tradition in the past. Chocolate, caffeine, television, movies, and others have made the list of things I have given up (or attempted to do so) for that very long six weeks. I believe one year I fasted from Starburst jellybeans. But this year is different.

Perfectionism is one of my greatest struggles. It affects and influences my work, studies, relationships, and communion with Christ. I decided that I do not need one more thing for which to seek perfection, another task to make me crazy for fear I will not wholly accomplish it. Giving up anything would at this point induce me to obsess over the work of that fast.

If Lent is meant to further entrench the works mentality and fear of imperfection that I hold so closely, then I will not participate. If wearing an ashen cross on my forehead will equate me to a Pharisee because I desire to flaunt my piety, then I benefit no one from that display. If depriving myself from a pleasure leads me to find a substitution less healthy, then I have really fasted from nothing. If Lent is intended instead to spur believers to practice gratitude for salvation and to observe waiting in hope and expectation, then I will do so.

So in some ways I am giving up something. I am giving up on the suggestion that I need to be or do more than I am to be pleasing to God. I wait and I hope and I offer thanks. But for this year, that is all.

Peace

What follows are disjointed thoughts and questions, that all tie together somehow, but not necessarily in a coherent manner...

The February 26 Relevant Podcast features an interview with Don Miller in which he discusses a number of issues, including the war. Miller mentions that although Peace Studies programs are becoming more and more popular in American universities, only one Christian university has such a program (it was started just last year). Why are we afraid to talk about peace?

I am more and more of a pacifist. I think Christ teaches peace, loving your neighbor and yourself, living in harmony with others. Jesus did, of course, turn over money tables in the temple and loudly confront hypocritical leaders. But He communed with the unlovely, He loved everyone, and He invited all to join His Life.

Does it matter if I support the war or not? Yes. Does it matter more that I love my neighbor (meaning my brothers and sisters everywhere), myself, and my God? Of course.

And why is peace only mentioned when we are closely affected by or involved in war? Do we need a drastic and negative example of the opposite of peace to inspire us to consider it?

I helped with the kids at my church on Sunday evening and heard one of the mothers discussing with her 4 year old why hitting another boy was unacceptable... she provided a recent example of when he had been loving and went with him to apologize to the other boy. That is where peace begins, teaching children non-violence and the love of Christ in practical ways.

Following the tradition of non-violent resistance, what ways can I contribute to issues of social justice? Is my green "Save Darfur" bracelet really helping to save Darfur or am I just making myself feel better by wearing it everyday?

Peace Studies is a wonderful idea, but unless we are equipped to really love others and deal with injustice, it is merely an idea. We can talk about how to be peaceful all day, we can debate the benefits being anti-war, but in the end we need strategies, we need tactics, but most of all we need to let Christ's love fill us and overflow out of us. Trying to be peaceful on our own is entirely fruitless.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)

Black History Month

This weekend, American Shani Davis became the first African American to win an individual gold medal at a winter Olympics. Let me just say I found it quite appropriate that he made this history during Black History Month.

Which brings me to honoring other great African Americans. I look up a great deal to Black women. Nothing against men, of course, but the feminist in me is drawn to the strong women who work hard to overcome the "double bourden" of their race and gender. And not just to overcome it, but celebrate who they are as well.

Two of my favorite African American women in history are Ida B. Wells Barnett and Fannie Lou Hamer.

Wells-Barnett was banned from the South in the late 1800s when she used her journalist credentials to expose lynching. She later became a charter member of the NAACP, female suffragist, and American leader. My favorite Ida anecdote: When NAWSA and the National Woman's Party refused to let Black women march with them in the famous 1919 suffrage parade, Wells did something extremely brave. She and a few other Black suffragists stood at a bend in the road, where the parade could not continue without them. She stepped in the parade and marched with the others until the end.

Hamer, one of twenty children in a sharecropping family, was called a "latter-day female Ghandi." She first became involved in the Civil Rights movement through SNCC in voter registration after attempting to vote, in her 40s, for the first time. Her accomplishments are limitless, including food and clothing drives, running for senator, organizing projects to help poor, rural African Americans, and encouraging womens' involvement in Civil Rights. What I find most inspiring about Hamer is her drive, her desire to secure freedoms and respect at a later point in life, her sheer courage to defy her position.

My list goes on, but here's to also celebrating the people we don't know about, whose low-profile contributions to history are invaluable.

My Plans

"The end of a matter is better than its beginning, and patience is better than pride." (Ecclesiastes 7:8)

Surrender my ideas
Of perfection,
Of time;
Take into account
Every factor
That makes things
Whole
And do not
Give in
To despair,
To failure;
Slow,
Breathe,
Endure.

Channeling St Valentine

How did we get so far from restoring sight to the blind?



From the Catholic Forum

Profile
Priest in Rome, possibly a bishop. Physician. Imprisoned for giving aid to martyrs in prison, and while there converted the jailer by restoring sight to the jailer's daughter. While Valentine of Terni and Valentine of Rome sometimes have separate entries in martyrologies and biographies, most scholars believe they are the same person.

There are several theories about the origin of Valentine's Day celebrations. Some believe the Romans had a mid-February custom where boys drew girls' names in honor of the sex and fertility goddess, Februata Juno; pastors "baptised" this holiday, like some others, by substituting the names of saints such as Valentine to suppress the practice. Others maintain that the custom of sending Valentines on 14 February stems from the belief that birds begin to pair on that date. By 1477 the English associated lovers with the feast of Valentine because on that day "every bird chooses him a mate." The custom started of men and women writing love letters to their Valentine on this day. Other "romance" traditions have become attached to this feast, including pinning bay leaves to your pillow on Valentine's Eve so that you will see your future mate that night in your dreams.