My father died. A sentence that is just weird to write. Up until last Monday, we hadn't spoken in more than 12 years. I thought it odd that he wanted to talk after all that time...and even odder that he didn't really have much to say.
I don't know how to feel. It's unnerving when someone that's supposed to be close but isn't, dies. At one level you know you should be sad. And you feel guilty because you don't and kind of angry about both of those...I certainly can't say that I really miss him per se because he wasn't really around. I'd like to say I miss the times when he was...but I honestly don't remember them because I know they weren't all that good. But yet somehow I feel a profound sense of being lost...
I feel suddenly more adult than ever before and yet very small and young all at the same time. The generation above me has officially started to disappear. It's kinda scary.
Shaken. Unnverved. Lost.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Learning to Play in the Waves
Let he sea resound, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it. ~Psalm 98:7
As I chuckled to myself, it struck me how very like that little boy I can be. I try so hard to direct my life. Even in my efforts to be obedient, I want to be able to somehow control how that obedience will look or turn out. Essentially, "Yes God - I can get behind this plan of yours if I can do it this way - or still have this - or, or, etc. etc." I will follow you if you make everything turn out in a way that I think is 'good'.
When I looked back over, the boy had tired of that game - because as you know, commanding the tide is exhausting work! Now, instead, he was laughing and splashing around; sometimes jumping over the waves; sometimes allowing them to splash against his legs. The waves still came, without his guidance.
Waves, as rough as they may seem at times, are always under the control of my Heavenly Father. If I recognize that they will always be there, I wonder how much more laughter and joy I would experience if I learned to play in the waves of my life and let Him control the tide.
You rule over the surging sea; when its waves mount up, you still them. ~Psalm 89:9
As I sat on the beach over 4th of July weekend, I was watching a young boy. he stood on the edge of the ocean getting his feet and ankles wet, watching the waves. But not only was he watching the waves come, he was directing the tide. As he would see a wave begin to form, he would plant his feet wide apart but firmly on the sand crouched - ready for battle. he would stretch one arm firmly towards the wave pointing at it with an authoritative air. his other arm was behind him bent upward - almost as if about to throw an invisible javelin. as the crest would form on the wave, he would move his outstretched finger pointed arm towards the beach, in a gesture that was "waving" the wave in towards the shore. finally he would end with his finger pointed in the direction of the beach. It was eminently clear that he was commanding the tide - or at least he thought he was!
As I chuckled to myself, it struck me how very like that little boy I can be. I try so hard to direct my life. Even in my efforts to be obedient, I want to be able to somehow control how that obedience will look or turn out. Essentially, "Yes God - I can get behind this plan of yours if I can do it this way - or still have this - or, or, etc. etc." I will follow you if you make everything turn out in a way that I think is 'good'.
When I looked back over, the boy had tired of that game - because as you know, commanding the tide is exhausting work! Now, instead, he was laughing and splashing around; sometimes jumping over the waves; sometimes allowing them to splash against his legs. The waves still came, without his guidance.
Waves, as rough as they may seem at times, are always under the control of my Heavenly Father. If I recognize that they will always be there, I wonder how much more laughter and joy I would experience if I learned to play in the waves of my life and let Him control the tide.
You rule over the surging sea; when its waves mount up, you still them. ~Psalm 89:9
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Can you be depressed and blessed?
A friend of mine recently asked this question on his blog: "Can you be blessed and depressed at the same time?" I don't know if I'd have phrased t that way, but I think he's asking about a question that has been rolling around in my brain and heart for awhile now.
Today in church, our guest pastor essentially said (or at least this is how I heard it) something like...if you're not bursting with happiness, then you can't be filled with the Holy Spirit. He mentioned that in his house there is only room for "happy." He had many other good things to say, but I have to admit, he lost me at this point. From then on, I was lost in my own frustration. I guess it's a good thing I don't live at his house.
Why does there frequently seem to be no room for sadness and fear in the body of Christ?
Today, it would seem that King David would have been told that he was't focusing enough on the hope that God offers. [Have you ever wondered what the church would do if we actually sang some of the Psalms - as was intended when they were written? Take a look at Psalm 88 and think about what our congregations would say if you started to sing it??]
We currently live in the "in-between" and/or "already-but-not-yet." Living in this time means that part of our challenge is learning to live with the tension that exists between the first and second comings of Christ. We are saved; but not yet perfected. We can have a relationship with Jesus and have been given the Holy Spirit; but even these relationships are a mere shadow of the love and relationship we will experience when we get to spend eternity with our Father. So if everything is not as it should be or will be...why on earth would we expect to be perfectly happy. It seems to me that quite the opposite is true. It seems to me that at a certain level, everything we have and don't have today should cause some grief over what we don't have quite yet. This is not to say that we shouldn't and can't recognize all the blessings that we have been given...even this is so much more than we ever recognize. It is just to say that happiness is circumstantial..and the circumstances of the "in-between" time often leave much to be desired.
Yet, Galatians tells us that joy is a fruit of the Spirit. So can joy and sadness co-exist?
I am guessing that Paul was not "happy" to be in beaten and in prison and in chains. With all of this the only thing close to a complaint you hear from Paul is the "thorn" he mention....I figure this must've been a pretty big deal for it to be complaint-worthy for a guy who was beaten, chained and jailed! I'm guessing that whatever it was didn't make him "happy." However, he speaks passionately about the joy he experiences.
I think, yes; sadness and joy can co-exist. And I think that this very ambivalence is part of living in the "in-between."
And what does it look like to be sad and yet filled with joy?
Sort of like I imagine Paul:
Because of Jesus, when I am sad, disappointed, hurt and I bring my tired, weary, beat up heart to my Father; He meets me there. He sees me. He hears me. He sits with me and He holds me and somehow I know that I will be ok. That is where my joy is found.
Today in church, our guest pastor essentially said (or at least this is how I heard it) something like...if you're not bursting with happiness, then you can't be filled with the Holy Spirit. He mentioned that in his house there is only room for "happy." He had many other good things to say, but I have to admit, he lost me at this point. From then on, I was lost in my own frustration. I guess it's a good thing I don't live at his house.
Why does there frequently seem to be no room for sadness and fear in the body of Christ?
Today, it would seem that King David would have been told that he was't focusing enough on the hope that God offers. [Have you ever wondered what the church would do if we actually sang some of the Psalms - as was intended when they were written? Take a look at Psalm 88 and think about what our congregations would say if you started to sing it??]
We currently live in the "in-between" and/or "already-but-not-yet." Living in this time means that part of our challenge is learning to live with the tension that exists between the first and second comings of Christ. We are saved; but not yet perfected. We can have a relationship with Jesus and have been given the Holy Spirit; but even these relationships are a mere shadow of the love and relationship we will experience when we get to spend eternity with our Father. So if everything is not as it should be or will be...why on earth would we expect to be perfectly happy. It seems to me that quite the opposite is true. It seems to me that at a certain level, everything we have and don't have today should cause some grief over what we don't have quite yet. This is not to say that we shouldn't and can't recognize all the blessings that we have been given...even this is so much more than we ever recognize. It is just to say that happiness is circumstantial..and the circumstances of the "in-between" time often leave much to be desired.
Yet, Galatians tells us that joy is a fruit of the Spirit. So can joy and sadness co-exist?
I am guessing that Paul was not "happy" to be in beaten and in prison and in chains. With all of this the only thing close to a complaint you hear from Paul is the "thorn" he mention....I figure this must've been a pretty big deal for it to be complaint-worthy for a guy who was beaten, chained and jailed! I'm guessing that whatever it was didn't make him "happy." However, he speaks passionately about the joy he experiences.
I think, yes; sadness and joy can co-exist. And I think that this very ambivalence is part of living in the "in-between."
And what does it look like to be sad and yet filled with joy?
Sort of like I imagine Paul:
Because of Jesus, when I am sad, disappointed, hurt and I bring my tired, weary, beat up heart to my Father; He meets me there. He sees me. He hears me. He sits with me and He holds me and somehow I know that I will be ok. That is where my joy is found.
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