goodbye, and hello

it's the last day of the year, i'm sitting in the dark except for the little lights, listening to vance joy. this is part of why i love december. it's packed full of special things.
things like waiting and remembering and ending and looking ahead. it's a time of reflection. taking moments to be thankful, to be sorry, to be honest, to hold things. to see what was. to sort, to take and savor what you want to keep. and to release the things that bound you, (even things you once thought were good for you, things you thought you needed, maybe you need to be free of them).  and it's a time to see what could be. it's a time for hope and new chances. it's time to enter in.

it used to be about resolutions.

it's not about that anymore.

resolutions sound rigid and forced and check-listy. what i really want is growth into wholeness. i don't want to pull myself up by my bootstraps-it never lasts- i want renewal. i don't want to start something or stop something- i want to learn something. i want to keep letting go of shadows and pulls and the things i've piled on myself. i want to keep climbing into places with room for me to expand, out of boxes and into the wide open spaces. to feed my soul and my body and my mind each day with healthy words and sounds and sights  and conversations. to take the bitter and salty and sweet and taste them equally. i want to shed visions of anything false and shine into truth. i want resurrection. the rebirth of things forgotten or lost or buried - things i thought didn't fit, but have a place. i want to welcome all of me. and i want to welcome all of you.

i'm not just going to want this year, i'm going to choose.

i choose to be free of having to know, and choose to embrace the doubt. i choose to open the closed places and bring light to the corners. i choose to invite Love to begin the day with me and end the day with me and hold me during the hours between.  i choose to allow myself to create.  and laugh. really. loudly.  and i choose to feel, really feel, the hard and ugly, scary things- to cry when i need to- but to live bold and brave. to be patient, endlessly patient with everyone, and especially me.  i choose to be bravely curious instead of defensively armed. i choose peace with in me. openness. making spaciousness a goal.

i am going to be quiet and i'm going to be loud. i am going to allow the being and the unfolding of what is, whatever it is. i am going to watch God move with me into the great unknown - i am going to hold life lightly - because we don't know what a year will bring, or even a day.

happy new year 2017! bring it

Emmanuel

i always get sad after christmas. that sinking feeling that this season of hope- of advent- anticipation- the entrance of Love- the paschal mystery- the season of light- is over. that sinking feeling that the world must wait, another 12 months- that i must wait. but today, it felt especially dark.

we don't know what migraines are exactly. and since that is true, i'm going to attribute this acute sense of darkness to  some triggering or miss-firing of neurons during a bad migraine today. it was weird. it came out of almost nowhere with the beginning of a headache and it broke hours later after migraine medicine and sleep.

when i woke up from a small nap on the couch with my arm over my head- trying to be physically present with the kids, since i was absent in all other ways- i realized that i felt a sense of hope that was absolutely not there an hour earlier. in a sort of post-ictal foggy way, i went to my bedroom, lit some candles and remembered something i'd read from richard rohr in the morning- that for positive experiences to get imprinted in our brains we need at least 15 seconds with them. so i watched the flames from the 4 candles hold steady their light and i spoke some words of truth to myself and to God. because mediation on truth brings light.

Emmanuel, God with us

again and again.

Emmanuel, God with us

over and over.

contemplative prayer is meditation on truth. it calls us to stillness. quieting the inside. remembering the goodness of God's entrance and that it doesn't go away on december 26th.

Emmanuel, God with us

because that is huge. God is with us. all of us. each of us. wherever and whatever we are doing.

Emmanuel.

we can open our selves. look and listen. feel Him. let ourselves be held by Him.
hold onto the light.
hold onto the hope.
hold onto the Love.
and the mystery.

Emmanuel, God with us

Merry Christmas!

always.
even on christmas eve with a migraine.
even when zoe is flapping in a circle because i corrected her pronunciation of 'vibrato'.
even when someone's just lost a parent or husband or child and this is their first christmas with that stinging absence.
even when people are fleeing their homes, leaving everything, just to live.
even in the middle of all the pain.
even in the middle of the beauty.
even as the birds sing. as the sun shines or as it snows.
even in a world where we are surrounded by both- the good, the bad. the hard, the easy. the agony and the ecstasy.  

'I AM GOD'
know that
and be still.

tomorrow is the answer.
tomorrow is why i can trust that.
tomorrow is the joining of the Spirit and the body. the entrance.  waited for. looked for. and often missed. missed because we are looking in the wrong places. we are looking in the temple, and He is in the barn. we are looking for high and mighty, He came down and humble. we are looking for shiny and bright. He came to the dirty places. we are looking for loud. He came quietly. we are used to busy. He calls us to stillness. we too often have it backwards. the whole thing. we make life messy and complicated and then try to cover it with pretty and sparkly.

but Christmas reminds us of who God is. of His heart. His deep love. His desire to know us. to know what we taste and smell and feel and see - from our perspective. that is huge. that is life giving and life changing.

Oh holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining

Till he appeared and the soul felt it's worth

The thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices
For yonder brings a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees

Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh night when Christ was born
Oh night divine
Oh night, Oh night divine

 

shepherds. night. glory. angel. good news. joy. the Messiah. a baby. lying in a manger. 

not what we thought it would be. not the way we may have wanted it. but so much more beautiful. because He entered into the mess. the broken. Jesus sees us for who we are. peeled. beneath the sparkly and perfume. beneath the clothes on our back - designer or filthy. He sees our bones and our spirit and that they all long for that deep love. to be known, even and perhaps most of all at our worst, and then still loved.  for the soul to feel it's worth. 

living in that worth, knowing that love, makes things bearable when they may seem unbearable. it doesn't make everything 'fine' or 'okay', but bearable and held - is better than unbearable and alone. Christmas is about a Presence that promises fill the stinging absence, to rebuild the home after the fleeing, to hold the hands of my flapping daughter and to still the head and heart of her mother.  

always and even no matter what.

Merry Christmas!

when the answer is no

i'm really good at praising God when things are going well. i'm really good at saying "God is good!" when the answer is 'yes'. i'm not so good at those things when the answer is no. especially when it feels like i'm sitting in a season of 'no's'.

the "no" this week was the answer to getting a visa for rose to come to america this summer. the little man behind the glass wall with the semi-circle cut out to hear each other- said 'no'. followed by "i'm sorry - this time, the answer is no."

i'd love to say that i graciously smiled and accepted his answer. but i didn't. i did refrain from reaching into the semi-circle cut out and throttling him- but i began to beg. "we haven't been home in 2 years! we went before and we came back! we have a special needs child who needs testing before september!"

"i recommend you finish the adoption and apply for an immigration visa." is what he said.

really?? REALLY? yeah i recommend that too but for the LOVE OF GOD that hasn't exactly been working either!!!  i wanted to ask him when the last time he'd seen his family was. i wanted to ask him how old his parents were. if his sister was expecting a baby. if he had a special needs 17 year old who needed to be assessed before 18. i wanted to ask if he'd ever tried to "finish an adoption". i wanted to ask when the last time his family couldn't travel together was. when the last time that he had to leave a child on the other side of the world so other children could see their grandparents.  i wanted to scream and swear (truth be told). i wanted to shout - "you are NOT sorry! you have the ability to not have to say you're sorry- but you are choosing to say "no" and "i'm sorry." 'no' i will have to handle- but i will not except that you are sorry."

it was only 8 am.

the rest of our lives flashed before my eyes.

years of stuck. years of no. years of living here in this place that i sometimes love and sometimes can't believe exists. our post-apocalyptic nightmare. where they run out of butter and don't know how to use a level but have fancy cellphones. i was my worst self.

i was mad at the little man behind the counter who looked like weinerslave from 30 rock but i was also mad at God.

God who could have said 'yes'. God who knows how tired i am, and how much i needed this summer in the USA. God who promises and follows through. God who knows best. and... then my little tirade began to fall apart.

because God does know all these things and His promises are real. i've spent years learning and re-learning that His way usually doesn't look like my way but His way is better. always. so i started to remember. i could hear jude outside playing and i remembered submitting to what felt like an impossible situation- only to watch God shine. i remembered the countless times i haven't submitted but rather pushed my own agenda, tried to meet my own needs my way, and how i've suffered at the hand of my own grubby little hands. so i started thinking about needs and whether or not i even know my own needs or only think i do.

it really felt like a need to go back to the US this summer. but that is my answer to a need or many needs- that really isn't the need. so instead of asking God why? and why not? i started asking myself what i feel i need. what feels like it's lacking. what inside is hurting. what inside got so angry at the "no". i tried to ask in a gentle way- a curious way- a compassionate way, not a judgmental or condemning way.

it turns out my little small self did need some tending. someone to listen (someone being me). i heard things like- i'm so tired. friends keep leaving and i'm lonely. life here is hard. what if we never finish the adoption. i miss the ocean and covered parking. i miss my family. i feel guilty for leaving family and friends for such long periods of time. and those things i knew. so i waited. and the greater fears came out. what if i'm messing up my kids being over here? i want a pattern- i want normal- i want to be able to have a routine of going home each summer- i want something i can count on- dependability- i want to know the future of what will happen with rose, and zoe- and even with me.

that was the big one at the bottom- i feel like i have no control- like my life is a greased watermelon and i can't pick it up.

so God showed up- as He does- probably because many people were asking Him to on our behalf. and He said the same things He says and has been saying. I am in control. I am dependable. you can count on Me. I know these deep desires of your heart. I made you. I made your kids. I've got this. let's together help your little self to know that she can rest in Me. lean on Me. do you trust Me?

and the answer is "yes". "yes i trust You." because You are trustworthy.

some of these things just need to be felt and grieved and going to america isn't going to do that for me- some of these things just need to be lived through. and some of these needs can be met in different ways - more respite. and what is in the ocean? sand and water and spaciousness and perspective- can i find those things here? can i make space in my life to breathe better? can i accept that yes- ultimately i don't have a lot of control?

i'm left with a lot of questions- but questions that start with 'yes' and hope. questions i can ask myself while leaning on Him who gives life and breathe and oceans and summer, who knows what it feels like to wear skin and be lonely, who also made choices that limited His control, who knows me and has known me and longs to give me the true desires of my heart- the ones underneath that i can't even see. He wants to give answers that satisfy long after the summer ends. He wants to draw me closer to Him and grow me in the questions. growth that couldn't happen if the man behind the counter said  "yes".