TC Larson

Stories and Mischief

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Breath prayers: a series

2
Aug

I’ve been working on something for the last few months, during this challenging time, when we’re facing situations and challenges, awakenings and reckonings, an author and pastor introduced a series of morning breath prayers. That pastor’s name is Osheta Moore, and she is a lovely human who wrote Shalom Sistas, and preaches at Woodland Hills and Roots Covenant, among other places.

While facing a pandemic of an illness that zeroes in on the lungs, breath prayers seemed keenly appropriate. That was In late March/ April. Then at the end of May in Minneapolis a police office knelt on the neck of George Floyd and killed him. And the outrage at this, and the national reckoning with institutions that are set up to keep people down that followed is making people take a hard look at the ways their silence — my silence — has supported racism.

All that to say, it’s been a good time for breath prayers.

I thought I’d spread them out over the month of August, a time when the summer weather in Minnesota usually reaches its peak. Right now there’s a fever pitch of stress surrounding school’s plans for fall and how people are going to support their kids’ education, especially in this time of pandemic. It’s hard to know what the right decision is, and there’s not one cookie-cutter answer for every family, for every child. So how do we even start to pray about it?

Again, it’s a good time for breath prayers.

The cover of my handmade journal that began life as a box of crackers headed for the recycling bin.
Here’s the imperfect spine.

A breath prayer is so simple, with the goal of giving our busy minds time to rest and time to pause. Almost a form of meditation, you just focus on a simple phrase, usually one that is short and can be said in one inhale or one exhale. Maybe the two portions work together. Maybe it’s longer and takes two breathes to complete, o pne phrase used on the inhale, one used with the exhale. The idea though is that it’s short enough to mimic our breathing, and can slow our breathing and slow our racing minds.

This post will probably be one of the longer of the series. I hope to share one or two per week during August. I will try to be clear which prayers are from Osheta and which ones are from me, because I think it’s important to give Osheta credit for these beautiful prayers and for the inspiration for this journal. For example, today’s prayer is from Osheta.

Today’s prayer: Mother God, distract me with delight.

There are a couple dictionary entries on this page, and a blackout (or whiteout in this case) poem based from a book of poems by Rumi.

The definition of pray: to request or make a request for in a humble, beseeching manner syn plead, petition, appeal, entreat

The poem reads:

God is giving a general introductory lecture.

We hear and read it everywhere, in the field, through the branches.

We’ll never finish studying, yet we’re considering.

Shall I say this with other metaphors? A barn crowded with souls. Quietness served around a table. Two people talk along a road that’s paved with words.

Mother God / distract us with delight.

The next page simply says breathe in / breathe out

As I use these prayers I try to focus on that prayer’s thought throughout the day, paying attention to where it pops up or how I feel in relation to it. I think God shows us things this way, even if it’s just showing us something more about ourselves.

And that’s it! I hope you’ll enjoy this series, and I’d love to hear what kinds of prayer are meaningful to you. Feel free to leave a comment and share with friends who might find this helpful.

Filed Under: Art Journaling, Breath Prayers, Church Life, Faith, Paints and Pages, Uncategorized

A larger table

11
May

This week the world of Christian writing and thought and theology lost a pivotal figure in Rachel Held Evans. She went into the hospital at the beginning of the Lenten Easter season and passed away over the weekend of May 3. She was 37 years old. She had many books still to be written, many years with her family still to be lived, and many creative pursuits still to explore.

Almost immediately after she passed away news outlets and online sources wrote articles about her impact on modern Christianity. They talked about the way she articulated disenfranchisement with the current church, and the impact that she had in being a prophetic voice, “prophetic” here meaning one who reflects reality to the people around her and then calls them to something better.

One of the places that should have done the best job of memorializing her was the magazine, Christianity Today. This is the publication that is most frequently viewed as the voice of the majority of American Christianity and its trends, interest movements and culture. And the fact they bungled it speaks volumes.

There were also many people online who were harsh and insensitive. And even hateful. These are people who describe themselves as Christians and they celebrated her passing. This is a real problem, especially when you consider Jesus’ words in the Book of John that said love is how people will know someone is a disciple of Jesus.

This is something that is larger than just a one off anomaly in regards to a potentially divisive person within the church. This is reflective of the attitude of many Christians towards anything that does not up uphold their exacting uber-conservative demands. To see it all you have to do is look at all the ways Christians are known for what they’re against rather than the positives they’re for. It’s hard to want to be associated with a group that would be so dis-compassionate they’d be glad someone had died.

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To understand why Rachel might have been seen as divisive, it’s important to understand the environment she was responding to. It’s an environment where the Bible is inerrant and everything is tested against it. It’s an environment where men are generally seen as being the leaders and women are frequently the ones who do the heavy lifting of implementation. And this is all just the start of the things Rachel addressed in her writing.

Here’s the problem, particularly with the inerrancy of the Bible and the insistence that it be taken as literal: Those who claim to be Bible believers rarely realize they are not actually taking the Bible literally. And I don’t mean “literally” in the exaggerated sense as when you’re talking to someone at lunchtime and they say, ‘I literally couldn’t get out of bed today.’ I mean literal as in taking each word with it’s direct and intended meaning. Western people with the highest respect for and knowledge of the Bible are rarely observing the law of the Old Testament. They’re rarely, if ever, taking literally the proclamations of Jesus about loving your enemy or taking care of the alien or widow among you.

And guess what? Neither am I.

Everyone who lives a modern life is doing some interpretation of the Bible, wittingly or not. There’s history and traditions and interpretation thrown in that we’ve become blind to, and not by some underhanded scheme to deceive anyone, but simply by being immersed in the culture of “church”.

The fear that’s perpetuated is that if you ask hard questions about troubling passages, where will the questions take you? Where will they lead? If you question the inerrancy of the Bible, they say, you will start down a slippery slope that will probably lead to an unraveling of your faith. Better to leave those questions to the grown ups, who are most decidedly not you.

Start at 1:15 to hear what they say will happen if you question ANY of the Bible

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One of Rachel’s first books was called A Year of Biblical Womanhood . In it she tried to put into practice the laws and directives the Bible placed on women, such as sitting on her roof when she had an argument with her husband, baking bread a certain way, or even removing herself from her normal routine and sleeping in a separate tent one week out of the month.

What she accomplished through this experiment was to gently point out the absurdity of the claim while still respecting the underlying validity and importance of the Bible. She respected the Bible, felt it was full of truths and wisdom, even if it didn’t have to be used as a step by step rulebook to follow, such as Robert’s Rules of Order . That didn’t scare her, she let it be fine in its own self, rather than trying to force it to fit external set of criteria.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg. She amplified voices of those who have been underrepresented, repressed, and discriminated against. She saw Jesus as building a bigger, longer table that could include more people, not fewer. Think about the way Jesus turned things on their head by hanging with those the established religious folks wouldn’t have consorted with by light of day. That’s who Rachel wanted to make space for.

My friend once described my parents as Jesus hippies. That made me laugh and I felt very comfortable with that idea, and I think they did too. I want to be a Jesus hippy. I want to be more concerned with the way my life communicates God’s love to the world around me rather than excluding people. And I want to be courageous in speaking up for those whose voice has been silenced.

Love, grace, and peace be to the memory of Rachel Held Evans, and may we all build longer tables to accommodate a larger feast.

Here’s a lovely article remembering Rachel Held Evans by Sarah Bessey

If you want to read one of Rachel’s other books you could try Searching for Sunday or Inspired , which came out less than a year ago. And if you read any of her books I’d love to hear what you think.

Discussion: Comments {3} Filed Under: Art Journaling, Church Life, Faith, Uncategorized

Third week of Advent: we could use a little joy

23
Dec

We’re falling a little behind now, but I think it’s still worth it to write about each of the weeks of Advent rather than skipping one in order to catch up. Plus I like joy — who doesn’t like joy?? [Note: if you want to read posts on joy from previous years you can read one here, and another one here. If you’re behind on the Advent posts from this year, you can read Hope here and Love here.]

The thing is, in the past I’ve been taught that joy is a long-lasting dispositional quality, as contrasted with happiness, which is situational. I don’t disagree with that, and we all know people who are almost never positive about anything, regardless of the circumstances good or bad. So what does it matter if someone is joyous or happy, if someone is filled with joy or with happiness? I mean, are these cows joyful, or just happy (or on the verge of a stampede) and ultimately does it matter?

I suppose one could argue that they’re happy, because they’ve been released into the spring grass and they will acclimate and probably won’t continue bouncing around with glee. All I’m trying to suggest is that we don’t need to have disdain for their happiness. It’s not “less than” because it’s circumstantial. I feel much the same way as these cows when it comes to springtime sun and fresh air. Or this dog who learns to be a dog…

Again, is it happiness, is it cultivating joy, and aside from being in a healthy safe place, how important is that distinction?

I only watched like the first 5 minutes of the Paul McCartney video above, and it made my heart all warm and fuzzy, so I hope you feel the same way after watching some of it. There’s an aspect of gratitude in it that seems conducive to joy. In my experience, more grateful one is, the easier it is to find joy.

I’ve been working on an art page for a while, and I think it’s done enough to share now. I was trying to capture that feeling of joy and elation, while also using specific materials that I felt were important but challenging. There’s something about the childhood joy of getting a choice swing all to yourself without anyone pressuring you to give them a turn, when you can go as high as you want, day dreaming and imagining all sorts of adventures. If you notice something unusual about the chains on the swing, it’s because they’re made from insulin pump tubing. 🙂

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The coming of Jesus is an event of gratitude and joy, especially when Jesus is viewed as the great healer, the reconciler, the one who calls all people unto himself. In the United States the white evangelical church focuses so heavily on humanity’s fallen-ness, God’s wrath, and the idea of Jesus as a blood sacrifice to atone for people’s sins, there’s not much room to pay attention to how Jesus lived his life…we’re too focused on his death.

There are other positions, such as the role of Jesus as example of how to live a life, how to treat people unlike ourselves, and even as a great unifier of all things. Richard Rohr has some interesting things to share on this concept — Jesus as the Cosmic Christ. [He’s also written about the idea of the first half of our lives being all about building containers for meaning, and the second half of our lives being a process of dismantling those containers. That’s a wonderful head scratcher for anyone over 35!] But again, the evangelical church in the United States doesn’t talk much about that, since the going theology is the exclusivity of Christianity.

However, how much more joyous is it to think of Jesus as making all things new, including humanity? Definitely something to think about.

What’s bringing you joy this season?

Discussion: Comments {2} Filed Under: Art Journaling, Church Life, Faith, Family, Uncategorized

Finding Joy in the smallest Places

23
Dec

Finding joy used to be like looking for sugar in a candy store, finding wonder and happiness was like stumbling through a daisy field looking for a flower. Without trying there was just so much happy to notice, and so much excitement that punctuated every day.

 

Sugar! Flowers! Yay!

 

Some of that was due to my natural temperament, some of it was probably connected to being younger, some of it was undoubtedly due to the unearned privilege of being insulated from the hardships that so many people face on a daily basis. It wasn’t that everything was constantly smooth or went according to plan, but those glitches felt like the exception and were fairly easy to recover from.

 

If I had to write about joy at that point, it would have been no problem.

 

It’s a little harder now, though not impossible. It’s a matter of perspective.

 

Last year I tried to write about joy during Advent, and even tried a couple art journal pages to work it out, but none of them were quite right. Here’s where you can check that out. There I mention a difference between joy and happiness.

 

Joy seems to be consistently connected to a spiritual state, a grounded connectedness to ourselves, those around us, and a higher spiritual purpose. …Happiness is almost a consumable good; joy is more durable.

 

These days finding joy is more difficult. There are so many things that seem to be going off the rails, globally and locally. Here’s a summary of sound bites from this year, and when listening it’s no wonder it can be hard to feel joyful. It’s been a helluva year and our political in particular continues to be intensely disturbing. Sex scandals, election tampering, a gag order for scientists, undercutting environmental safeguards, it’s all overwhelming and disheartening.

 

However, at what point could we ever have looked at things in the world on a large scale and feel joyful? There’s always been something going haywire, some despot wreaking havoc, some natural disaster displacing whole communities. You’d think we’d start to notice that “desolation” is humanity’s default setting.

 

 

Okay, I’m not saying we’re quite like that movie, but you get the idea.

 

According to the Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, desolation is one of two states humans move from and into. Sounds dramatic doesn’t it? The opposite of desolation is “consolation”. Consolation is used to describe moods of harmony and settledness, desolation is used to describe moods of inner turmoil or disconnectedness. (Click to learn more.) It is assumed that people will move from consolation to disconsolation. People won’t stay in one or the other indefinitely, which is important to remember so we have hope and appreciation.

 

Hope and appreciation.

 

I think those are both tied to joy.

 

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The thing I’ve discovered is my joyfulness improves when I adjust my perspective from being focused on large scale things down to smaller scale things:

The sound of my boys together downstairs practicing crazy loud music on their instruments, and actually being able to make out a tune.

Watching someone open a door for a stranger, and the stranger respond with gratitude. 

The confidence of having a full tank of gas in a car you trust to get you to your destination. 

Waking up one of your kids and having one of their first statements be, “I love you, Mom.”

These small moments remind us of our humanity, remind us of our smallness, and help restore out connectedness to others around us. 

When I pay attention and take time to notice these things, I do better. I discover joy, that warm feeling that buoys us through hard times, that quiet confidence that there is good in the world if we’ll only remember to call it out in ourselves and others.

Joy can be a choice, and we have agency in cultivating more of it.

This is not joy that disregards the facts, this is joy that searches out the positive, the good, the things that tie us together as humanity and elevate us to our better selves. This is joy that seeks the details, the secret acts of good will, the quiet gestures of connection and celebrates those. This is calm noticing that settles down into the smallest moments, and then acknowledges their energy and the positive force they ripple out into the world. This is no flimsy pollyanna cliche. This is a brave act.

 

Original art by TC Larson

Original art by TC Larson

 

I really do wish you a joy-filled holiday season and believe you can help create that by deciding to choose joy. Go get ’em tiger.

 

 

 

Discussion: Comments {0} Filed Under: Art Journaling, Church Life, Faith, Little Things Big Things, Uncategorized

Renewed Shenanigans

21
Feb

Since it’s a strange weathered-February, it seems right to finally do an update here. I haven’t been trying to maintain radio silence; I’ve been moving into an expanded role in a job that’s been developing on the side for a bit. It’s exciting and I’m now part owner of a small business, which shows you how little screening they do of these sorts of things.

 

That’s only part of it, and I could use your input with another part.

 

As you know, I’ve got a bee in my bonnet for creative experiences. Painting has been at the forefront for longer than I anticipated. My dad getting sick and then losing him made it virtually impossible to tap into the writing that I had identified with for so long. I’ve (mostly) accepted that.

 

[Shhh…I’ll tell you something extra true: there are moments when I wonder about lost-time or opportunities I might have missed. That’s my first impulse. Once I notice that impulse, I remind myself that’s coming from a place of scarcity and a place of worry that there are a finite number of opportunities available, a.k.a. if I don’t get one of these opportunities they’ll run out before my turn comes round again. I don’t have to accept that mentality, and I don’t. There’s more than enough to go around, for me and for you too.]

 

I’ve allowed myself to explore and develop other ways of expressing the roiling thoughts and feelings that have come in these years of wrestling. Paints, scribbling, ripping paper, smearing color – these have become a language without words.

 

Original mixed media art by TC Larson (that's me!)

Original mixed media art by TC Larson (that’s me!)

 

This is good; it’s good to have tools with which you approach the world. It gave me new ways to work through difficult situations and was useful then when, about six months after losing my dad, my daughter (I call her Princess Teacup here) was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.

 

The diagnoses is permanent and it has impacted, well, everything. It’s not that you don’t get used to it – you do. It’s that by necessity, it changes so much of the rhythm of your life.

 

Okay back to you, Dear Reader. You can see that I’m a little all over the place. I could really use your input.

  • Painting, writing, creativity.
  • Type 1 Diabetes
  • Family, friends, silliness, and motherhood.
  • Encouragement, faith, spirituality, crabby wrestling with the Church.

These are all things that flow through my life. Does it make you crazy to hear about ALL of them? Do you wish this space was more focused? Do you wish you knew you could come here and get a daily pep talk? Do you get tired of hearing about grief and loss? Would you like to read snippets of stories I’m working on, now that I’m writing again?

 

This is when I turn to you, Dear Reader, and I’d really value what you have to say. Speak freely now, friends. I want to hear it. Your input can help shape the direction I go. I plan revamp things in order to better make this space reflect some of the shifts that have happened, and hearing from you would really help me.

 

Even though it’s been a while, I want you to know I appreciate you and the opportunity (there’s that word again) to share here with you.

 

Now get outside and enjoy this bizarre February heat wave. We’re all suspicious of it and are pretty sure it can’t last. Remember, the high school winter sports finals haven’t happened yet, and that’s when we here in Minnesota almost always get hit with a blizzard (click here for proof!). Don’t put away those snow shovels yet.

 

Since I’m already being “that person” and asking for things, I’m just gonna go for all the bananas and put this here: Donate and support us at the JDRF One Walk Fundraiser.

 

 

Discussion: Comments {3} Filed Under: Art Journaling, Church Life, Faith, Family, Mischief, Parenting, Uncategorized, Writing

Third week of Advent: Joy

11
Dec

Welcome to the third week of Advent.

So far we’ve focused on Hope and Love.

This week’s focus is Joy.

Joy is not the same as happiness. There’s supposed to be a difference between the two, though it’s sometimes hard to put your finger on. The way I was taught, happiness was fleeting and joy was ever-present. I’m starting to wonder about those semantics, and whether the air of superiority about them is warrented.

Happiness isn’t a bad thing, but it’s short-lived. Joy is supposed to be a deeper down emotion, something we retain regardless of our circumstances. It has the reputation of being something cultivated over a long arc, something tapped into by decision and a squarely set jaw.

For example, no one would say they’re joyful when their house just burnt down (although no body would say they’re happy about it, either).

However, they might say they still have joy when they lose their job and have nothing else lined up, even though they aren’t happy about it.

So what’s the difference?

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JD Salinger is said to have written, “The fact is always obvious much too late, but the most singular difference between happiness and joy is that happiness is a solid while joy is a liquid.”

(He should have written “Riddle me this!” as his first phrase of that quote. Let me know when you sniff out what the heck he was saying. Thanks fer nuthin’, Sensei Salinger.)

Joy seems to be consistently connected to a spiritual state, a grounded connectedness to ourselves, those around us, and a higher spiritual purpose. No wonder it feels superior to happiness, which is rooted in things lining up the way we expected or a positive outcome we were hoping for. Happiness is almost a consumable good; joy is more durable.

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As I was working on an art journal page for this week in Advent, I was working in layers and trying to create texture that I thought I would then paint white, so the texture would be the focus rather than the color. The idea was to add white as a final layer, but it would still have undertones of darkness (Payne’s grey and quindoctraone magenta) and brightness (metallic gold).

I liked the way it looked, but it didn’t work the way I thought.

That’s similar to the whole happiness vs. joy thing.

This didn't end up being right. But I started with the idea of having joy be informed by life experience and rising above temporary circumstance.

This didn’t end up being right. But I started with the idea of having joy be informed by life experience and rising above temporary circumstance.

The second page I worked on, I let myself grab colors I like and just slap ’em on a page. I had received a mailing with the word JOY on it, so that was handy. When I put it all together it looked like this…

Take two. This didn’t end up being right either. It was too…happy. Bright and cheerful is fine but to me joy speaks of deeper colors.

Whoa! Bienvinedos a Miami! Here’s a soundtrack to match this art journal page:

It’s fun, it’s cheery, it’s upbeat. All good things, but not exactly descriptors of Joy.

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It all got me to thinking. Happy doesn’t get the respect it deserves. Happy is considered the temperamental cousin of Joy. She’s looked down on as being shallow and flighty, depending on getting the foam on her cappuccino j-u-s-t right, or adjusting her recliner to the optimum angle. She’s supposed to be nothing like Joy, who is the stable, responsible one, the even-keeled, thoughtful cousin who manages to keep her chin up in the worst of circumstances, when Happy high-tails it to the Bahamas. Why is joy seen to be so superior to happiness?

Here’s something I think comes into play. Many character qualities or personality traits have varying degrees, deeper levels of the thing. Let me explain and you see what you think.

Nice is a good quality. We want people to be nice. But nice is not the same as kind. Kind is a whole other thing, with generosity and consideration implied in it. You can force yourself to be nice temporarily, but being kind is something that comes from a different place in the heart.

Smart is a similar example. Who doesn’t want to be smart? Smart’s good. But wise is a couple levels deeper. I don’t know if you can be wise without being smart but I DO know you can be smart WITHOUT being wise.

Happiness is the first degree, the entry level, of Joy. Weeping may endure for the night but Joy is gonna come in the morning. Joy is the thing that you can retain in spite of crummy circumstances or hardships that make it hard to get out of bed. Maybe joy is one of the things that MAKES you get out of bed.

Maybe joy is what happens with happiness sinks down into your soul and makes a home there.

The third and final try at "Joy" ended up like this. I think it makes sense this way, which joy being a calm presence in the middle of the color and movement of everyday. Do you agree?

The third and final try at “Joy” ended up like this. I think it makes sense this way, with joy being a calmly present in the middle of the color and movement of everyday. Do you agree?

Whatever joy is, I hope you find more of it in the coming week.

Discussion: Comments {3} Filed Under: Art Journaling, Church Life, Faith, Little Things Big Things

Second week of Advent: Love

3
Dec

 

We are entering the second week of Advent. The focus for this week is Love.

The first week of Advent, the focus was on Hope.

That didn’t go so well for me. How’d it go for you?

 

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I thought that trying to focus on hope this week would make me more full of hope. I thought maybe I’d see places that showed signs of hope.

Instead, it seemed to go the other way.

The good church-girl in me immediately went to the thought of Maybe that’s because Hope doesn’t come from inside us. We need to get our Hope from God and since this is Advent, and because it’s always the answer: Jesus.

But I’m crabbier than that now, a much more cantankerous, reluctant “person of faith” (if I even qualify for that anymore, which I know some people would say I don’t. But I’d be pretty happy to NOT be associated with that kind of faith).

 

img_7044.jpg

 

Then, upon further reflection on last week, I remembered why being hopeful might have reason to be hard this week. It was my dad’s birthday, or would have been if he was still with us. He would be 70. It would also have been my parents anniversary.

 

 

These dates will not change from year to year, and they’ll always fall near the beginning of Advent. You’d think I wouldn’t be surprised by an undercurrent dragging down my spirits, and yet, I am surprised. Maybe there’s a lesson there for me, but I’m not seeing it yet.

Because this week’s Advent focus (I never know how to phrase that. We light a candle and call it the Hope candle or the Love candle. So do I call it this week’s Advent candle is Love? Maybe so but we’re not actually talking about the candle. See what I mean?? We’re going to call it a focus, unless you, Dear Reader, can point me to another way wordologizing it.) Now…where were we?

Oh yes…

Advent. Love.

Because this week’s Advent focus is Love, one the first things that comes to mind is to recount all the people we love, the things we love doing, the places that hold special meaning for us.

We probably also quickly go to romantic love. We can think on the intensity of love, the way it make us just a tiny bit crazy, and even the way it can begin with pure intentions and grow twisted in its desire to be reciprocated.

 

Love is one of our most universal connectors is love. It’s something we all feel, all desire. I think it’s even a force similar to gravity or energy. The powerful force of love causes us to sacrifice, emboldens us, spurs us to action.

 

 

Love, with a capital L, is that Divine force that unifies us and gently nudges us towards choosing generosity, selflessness, hospitality, honesty, empathy. It’s draw us together across our separations. It gives us the courage to set aside our pride and enter a relationship humbly.

 

love-windows-girl-portion

 

This is the Love that comes to us as an infant.

This is the Love that reaches out to us before we even understand that concept.

This is the Love that enfolds us, comforts us, guides us.

This is the Love I’ll try to focus on this week.

 

Discussion: Comments {0} Filed Under: Art Journaling, Church Life, Little Things Big Things, Uncategorized

First week of Advent: Hope

28
Nov

Yesterday was the beginning of Advent, the lead up to the big shindig: Christmas. Some people have been barely containing their excitement and now they can let it out, like this guy…

giphy1

Most of us are probably a little more subdued about it.

Even so, Christmas receives a lot of attention. Wherever you may find yourself in relation to it, unless you plan to go on vacation to a very remote island, you’re going to find it hard to avoid for the next month.

Something that receives less attention, and which has been less commercialized is the season of Advent. Advent can be a beneficial time for all of us. It doesn’t have to even be connected to the sweet little 8lb baby Jesus laying in a manger wearing golden fleece diapers (did you see Talladega Nights like I did?), although the source of most of our modern Advent traditions come from a Christian practice.

Here’s the thing about Advent: it can be used as a way of resetting ourselves and zeroing the white balance (so to speak) on our priorities.

Each week has a different focus, and each one is something that most of humankind can get behind. Hope, love, joy, peace — these are at the heart of Advent, and I’d argue they’re at the heart of what it means to be human. Each of these values alone is powerful enough, but teamed together they’re transformative.

Or at least I hope so.

So, with the intention to post on each of the Advent themes, let’s turn our attention to hope.

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I think hope is a little like waiting for the mist to clear.

You can be walking along, your path one you’ve been on before, and then all of a sudden everything’s different. You can’t see the same vistas, and the air feels different, even smells different. You keep walking, just putting your foot down and trusting that the path hasn’t undergone the same shift. You know enough to be patient. You know enough to remember that this has happened before though it was so long ago it’s almost out of your memory.

You have reason to hope, even though the circumstances don’t communicate hopefulness.

 

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Hope is a thing with feathers… ~Emily Dickinson

Sometimes the mist clears and you’re back on your merry way, the change temporary, merely a blip.

Other times, the mist clears and you find the landscape has morphed into something new and not entirely pleasant.

Ultimately the outcome doesn’t matter, because hope is the act of believing in the face of uncertainty. In some of the worst circumstances, it’s the possibility of change, the possibility of miracles, the possibility of a positive resolution that gives us strength to push forward. On the one hand, that has the potential to blind us to reality. Blind hope doesn’t always yield helpful perspective. But the presence of hope when things look dire, even just a glimmer, can give us just enough courage to get through to the next step…and then the next…and the next.

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Discussion: Comments {0} Filed Under: Art Journaling, Church Life, Faith, Little Things Big Things, Uncategorized

Legitimate Journeys

20
Mar

There are people who are solid in much of what they do. They have a plan, they stick with it. They don’t question the “why” of things, and they are content. Their journey is sincere, their faith is genuine, and they’re dedicated, upstanding members of their communities and their lives. That journey is a legitimate journey.

I’m realizing I might not ever be one of those people.

Instagram: tclmn

Instagram: tclmn

That’s not to say I’m the opposite of them. I’m also sincere and genuine. However, it appears that my journey might look much different than theirs, specifically my journey of faith. My faith is real even if it’s messy, and I must work to affirm that my journey is also legitimate. It takes a certain amount of vulnerability and willingness to admit that I’m more like “one of these kids is doing their own thing” as the PBS show used to sing. I don’t know that I aspire to become more like the non-questioning-types, but I just sort of assumed it would eventually happen, that maybe along with maturity or a certain number of years I’d mellow into a version of myself that’s closer to them. I’ve long known there are seasons of faith, times of drought and times of plenty, and that over the course of a lifetime a person will see ebbs and flows. I just thought I’d out grow the tendency to ask why.

Let’s just say, It ain’t happening.

It appears that I am born to question, to wrestle, to see inconsistencies between what was said and what was then implemented, to be able to hear Christian-ese even though I’m steeped in it. It’s not something I try to feed. I try to be careful to not base my worth or identity on going against the stream. It’s just something that keeps coming up.

It’s like when you suddenly become aware of a beeping coming from another room of the house when you’re trying to have a conversation with someone. You can’t NOT hear it until you break off your conversation and investigate the beeping (and in this example, turn it off).

It seems my ear may be tuned to the beeping question why.

It also makes me wonder if other people can hear it, and are just trying to act like they hear nothing.

Can you recognize different seasons of faith in your life? What season are you in right now, and how can you tell? What questions do you find yourself asking when it comes to matters of faith?

Discussion: Comments {8} Filed Under: Church Life, Faith, Five Minute Friday, Uncategorized

Not Yer Typical Grateful Mother’s Day Post

11
May

Breaking all the rules today: it’s Sunday, this will take more than five minutes, and I’m rolling two posts into one. Oh yeah – I’m also using improper grammar/vocabulary because I’m pretty sure “yer” isn’t an accepted dictionary word. Let it slide today my friends, will you?

I know I’m feeling contrary but I want to ask why mothers must feel bad for the fact there’s a day that celebrates them, why they must feel bad for the fact they were able to become mothers in one way or another, why in recent years we’ve started to feel we must celebrate in hushed tones rather than accept one specific day of appreciation?

It’s so typical Martyr Mom, isn’t it? “Oh no, no, sweetheart, I wouldn’t want to do anything for Mother’s Day. I might make someone feel bad if they weren’t a mother.” It’s a tricky spot to be in.

It’s a little bit like the way my sons feel when I compliment one of them. I tell Rex, “I really like the comic book you’re making.” Bobo hears that and comments, “You don’t like the thing I’m making.” Over and over, I assure them that if I compliment one of them, it has nothing to do with the other. Just because I say one of them is good at something, it doesn’t follow that the other is BAD at it, less than, or anything relating to them at all. It is just me calling out something about one individual. It isn’t a finite substance — as if there’s only so much talent available.

It may stem from some twisted old-timey notion that full womanhood is realized in motherhood, or that somehow women are redeemed through childbirth. We don’t have time to dig into the origins of that now, nor can we dwell on how that informs our current attitudes, but if a person is seen as forever less-than if they’re not a mother, then it’s no wonder there are some significant hang-ups surrounding it.

If you ask me, people would be smart to create their own personal Mother’s Days. Think of the brunch pandemonium we could avoid. Imagine the pick-me-up moms could get in northern regions where winter can drag on for way too long. Pop your own personal Mother’s Day in the middle of that, and break up the monotony. And does anyone save any money by purchasing flower baskets or earrings marketed around Mother’s Day? Not likely. Plus, I’ve got to say, I don’t really desire to hear “Happy Mother’s Day” from a pulpit or a person who is not somehow related to my mothering or somehow being my mother. There’s something about seeing Mother’s Day doggie leashes (Now Mom can walk the dog in style!) or Mother’s Day paperclips (Help keep Mom organized!) that detracts from the sincerity of the occasion anyways. However, Mother’s Day is firmly established now, and if the baseline is a Mother’s Day card that costs $5, you know that corporate America isn’t going be quick to give up Mother’s Day. It’s too big of a money maker.

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Instagram: tclmn

Instagram: tclmn

As I write this, I’m sitting at a restaurant, waiting for my mom. She’s supposed to meet me, but she’s lost. She gets lost a lot. She is more of an instinctual, landmark-reliant driver rather than a direction-following driver. Even if you write out directions for her, she doesn’t generally get there the way you map it out for her.

That sums up her approach to a lot of life. She doesn’t set out to challenge the status quo; it’s her inherent BS sniffer and her inquisitive mind that prompt her to ask the question on everyone’s minds, to say what no one else is willing to, or to proclaim that the Emperor isn’t wearing any clothes. Before they retired, she was a pastor’s wife (although, do you ever really stop being a pastor or a pastor’s wife, even after you retire? It’s kind of hardwired by that point.). She never did fit that stereotype, and that was a constant source of both pride and struggle for her. When people don’t know how to categorize you, it’s easier to just dismiss you as an anomaly rather than find a new spot for you in their minds.

Mom is opinionated, curious, adventurous, spontaneous, restless, loyal, and sensitive. She thinks non-linearly, which can make the linear people around her a little crazy. And let’s admit it, she is a little nuts. She’s random, resourceful, freakin’ hilarious, and sometimes doesn’t know when to quit. She’s one of those who underestimates the power of her words because she underestimates her significance. That underestimation can lead to misunderstandings, and coupled with a zinger or two, it can be a dangerous combination. On the one hand, she’s surprised that anything she’d have to say would actually mean something important to anyone, and on the other hand she’s hurt when it isn’t heard. She’s contradictory that way. Oh crap. Didn’t I say at the beginning of this that I was feeling contrary? I AM becoming my mother!

I’m grateful for her. She’s an unceasing cheerleader, and sees the potential for good things for all her kids. She believes in you, even when you don’t have the courage to believe in yourself.

I’m grateful there’s a special day created that helps people take time to acknowledge the mothers in their lives. On top of that, I’m grateful for the many people who have been mother-types to me throughout my life, for the women who modeled serving behind the scenes, and those who modeled leading from up front. I’m grateful for the people who helped me when things were hard, the people who teamed with me to try something new, who fed my hair-brained schemes and picked me up after epic failures. These may not have all been women, but in many senses these people played a mother role in my life.

From the objections I raised about feeling bad about being a mother on Mother’s Day, I know you’re questioning my sensitivity to those for whom this is a difficult day. It’s not that we shouldn’t have Mother’s Day, nor should we exalt motherhood. A woman is more than her ovaries, and a woman need not have a child to be fully actualized. Not every woman wants to be a mother. I know there are women out there who long to be mothers and cannot, those who have become mothers and could not raise that child, adoptions that have fallen through, heartache that seems bottomless. These things don’t stop being a part of us when this day passes. I hope we can all be kind to the varied circumstances of others, and not assume that our story is the story of every person we meet, easy story or difficult story.

We can all be mothers to one another. We can be tender, we can be tough, we can be supportive, we can be stern. Even if we didn’t have those loving mothers in our lives, we can find them. They are out there. You may already have one in your life and just never viewed him/her as such. You might have an opportunity to mother someone (you don’t have to call it that) and help them find their footing, their voice, or their stride. That is an important role. Do not diminish it just because it doesn’t involve an infant.

Let’s all become the best people we can be, and inspire one another to take those leaps of faith that are done so much more easily with the support of others.

You can do it. I can do it.

We are better together.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Discussion: Comments {2} Filed Under: Church Life, Family, Five Minute Friday, Motherhood, Uncategorized, Women

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