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Archive for July, 2012

What’s On Your Mind?

Posted in Random Thoughts, tagged , , , , , , on July 6, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Joseph was pretty clear on what to do about the “Mary problem.” Basically a nice guy (apparently), he would divorce her quietly and she could deal with the fall-out on her own. After all, it really wasn’t his mess. But God had another plan. So, how does God get through to us after we have already made up our minds?

Matthew 1:19
Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.

I would like to say that I have a list of experiences where I wanted to go one way and God wanted me to go the other way and I had a convenient dream (that I remembered) and then realized, “Oh, God is speaking,” so I changed my mind. There’s a laugh.

I am stubborn and bull headed. Once I decide (and I mean really decide) to do something, it’s like pushing a boulder up a hill to get me to change. In some cases, that persistence has been a good thing. The adoption of our daughter was a two-hear slog and only our dogged faith got us through. We had plenty of people try to change our minds. After all, everything was going wrong. So, in this case, we believed God was actually in the midst of it all.

But, I know, there are many more pigheaded decisions I have made that kept the angels busy trying to break through my iron resistance. Or maybe it wasn’t even those stubborn things but the impulsive ones that caused the most complications and mistakes. I’d get something in my mind: sell the old house and get a new (debt, debt, debt); buy a new car; send the boys to private school; go on a long vacations; accept another pet (and another and another and another); or simply say something hurtful. . . because it seemed right in the moment.

Looking back, I’m sure there was a lot of wing flapping and microphone testing (“Can you hear me now?”).

So, what is the point? My decisions (or mind gripped ideas) should be given time and space to hear from God. The Holy Spirit is wondrously creative and can help work out a lot of dicey situations.

At least I didn’t purchase one of those time shares in Timbuktu.

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Fourteen Generations

Posted in Random Thoughts, tagged , , , , , , on July 5, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Looking for something to consider and meditate upon in the first twenty verses or so of Matthew is not easy. Many years ago, I created a performance piece that illustrated the lives of the five women of this genealogy, but it is only now that I discover that there is controversy over this list. In other places in scripture and Jewish history, the generations are not equally fourteen by fourteen by fourteen. What gives?

Matthew 1:17
Thus there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Messiah.

If anyone is interested in a discussion of this discrepancy, there is a good (although somewhat dense) article in the Harvard Theological Review by George F. Moore. Most of it appears to be the need for synchronicity in the expectation of the coming Messiah. It’s a case of cycles. In a world where cycles were seen each year and marked with feasts and worshipful sacrifices, they were critical. We experience cycles in our own world, but, perhaps more dependent on one’s lifestyle or geography. After all, not every area of our country or world experiences the four seasons, some only have three (cold, hot, and rain). Others maybe two, warm and snow. Or what about the other cycles we’ve arbitrarily created? How many of us, because of the beginning of school in the fall, start something new at that same time of year? And there are those who follow the church calendar, another kind of cycle. And still others, follow the monthly cycles of their bodies.

Cycles help us give meaning to the changes in our lives. It is a wheel of time, if you will. I believe time is the most critical of all dimensions for human. We can do nothing to change the march of time (although there may be some extraordinary humans who have discovered a way to break the skin of time and have entered another dimension . . . and still others who have traveled space and played tricks with time). But most of us are slaves to cycles of time.

Even now, I keep glancing at the clock in the lower right hand corner of my screen. Time is marching and I must go to work. I’m late.

In recent years, many people have hungered for knowledge of their personal genealogies. They are looking back. They want to count their generations. Where are each one of us in the cycle of our generations? Where is the beginning point? And where might we be heading?

I am the accumulation of my generations past. I am a contributor to the generations of my future, whether biological or not. I am a point in time. Or an exclamation mark. Or a question. I am a breath. I am a color, a sound, a mark.

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Malaise in Writing and Prayer

Posted in Random Thoughts, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 4, 2012| 2 Comments »

Some people call it writer’s block, but for me,  it’s more like malaise. I looked it up: “a vague or unfocused feeling of mental uneasiness, lethargy, or discomfort.” I’ve had it for the last month (or more) and I have put less than 500 words (or prayers) to page. This is not good. I need to get back on some solid ground.

Psalm 40:2
He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.

Here’s a bit of confession: I haven’t felt like writing. It’s a grievous mistake, I know, because writing (like prayer) cannot be done out of feelings alone. It’s a discipline. A persistence. A slogging-on despite the circumstances. My favorite metaphor for endurance and doggedness leaps up: the tortoise of Tortoise & Hare fame. But you see, I have given way to the Hare again, round and round and round I go, no closer to the finish line, and off the path.

Another confession: if I am not writing, you can assume I’m not praying. The two have gone hand in hand for the last several  years and apparently, the Muse has departed, the Spirit hides behind a cloud, and the galloping horse of time has whipped through my apparently delicate balance of personal retreat with both God and Muse and daily life.

It’s not that daily life is a bad thing. I’ve had an amazing number of experiences and involvements over the past six weeks, from travel to Europe to visit extended family to my Navy son visiting for two weeks and second trip out west. Each agenda was full of laughter and joy and healing. I was much blessed. But. . . I took no time alone. Each day I hit the ground running and every minute was loaded. And really, that’s not so bad in itself. I know. But, once I returned to the days and minutes of normalcy and anticipated routine, I had no anchored place or time. I no longer retreated to my favorite chair (or if I did, I woke up an hour later) and I no longer had a plan for study since I just completed my New Testament journey of echoes, prayers, and meditations. Everything has come to a point all at once and, since my way is unclear, I am still standing at a crossroads of sorts. Where do I go from here?

And the worst of it all? When I stop doing something, I tend to forget how to do it. This is most clearly illustrated in a foreign language. Use it or lose it.

To get good at writing, one must write; and to get good at prayer, one must pray. No other way.

I am amazed how easily and quickly I lost my routine of prayer and writing. In the past, I had conquered malaise by keeping track of my time. I know that sounds anal, but it worked! Each time the inner voice of condemnation would attack me because I missed a day or two of prayerful meditation and study, I had facts to shore me up. Sure, I missed a day, but in a year, I’ve gotten it right over 70 or 80 or even 90% of those 365 days. So, “evil voice,” back off! I’m ok.

That pattern  has worked for the last five years.

And in the writing department, I became a great fan of Anne Lamott and her book, Bird by Bird, who encouraged me to start writing, 300 words a day, every day! And I did. I even completed a manuscript that way. But then, the next step was editing and cutting and slashing and changing and re-writing and soon, 300 words could no longer be used as a measure. I faltered. I am once again unsure, beleaguered by another voice or worse, silence. I tried to give myself a little credit, after all, I was still blogging. At least, I was. I did.

Breathe. I gotta breathe here.

Scratchboard by Michael Halbert

Today, a holiday, I woke with the determination that I would count it a victory day over lassitude and melancholy. I would pray. I would write. I would tend to my inner self. So, how did that go: I slept more than anything else with books on my lap and pen falling to the floor, tea growing cold. I lost four hours of my day to malaise, true malaise. Shortly, I must go to the grocery store for dinner. The day is flying by.

And yet, I do have this to show myself. I am sitting here right now. I made it this far. I crept over the edge. And tomorrow, hopefully, I will make the next step.

It’s time to choose. A way.

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