For the beauty of the earth

 Daniel and I probably were a little nontraditional in our wedding march. I walked down the aisle to hymn versus an instrumental piece.  Who knows the reasoning behind that, probably in all likeliness it was to save time and keep it simple.  Presbyterian/Anglican what have you services can be long if you have this or that song of response and communion- so we kept all flourishes to a minimum. Sung two songs, said vows, exchanged rings, and got out of there to go to the after party (somewhat in that order). Whoo-hoo.

And the reason for singing this hymn? Besides it being extremely beautiful and profound? It was in "Little Women".  Meg got married to this song.  I loved her wedding in the film.  It's only after the fact has the hymn gained in deeper spiritual meaning for me. It can without fail send me to tears.  It's full of beautiful images, full of life giving images, full of God's grace. It's all to easy to get bogged down by negativity and sin and what's wrong and broken nowadays. This hymn is a reminder that there's a lot of love and grace around, too, if we care to look around us!

For the beauty of the earth,
For the beauty of the skies,
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For the beauty of each hour
Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flower,
Sun and moon and stars of light,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth, and friends above,
Pleasures pure and undefiled,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For each perfect gift of thine,
To our race so freely given,
Graces human and divine,
Flowers of earth and buds of heaven,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For thy Church which evermore
Lifteth holy hands above,
Offering up on every shore
Her pure sacrifice of love,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

My tattoo- An outward sign of an inner transformation OR Of Faith and Uncertainity

I have a tattoo of a 'x' in an inconspicuous place on my wrist, a place easily hidden by the wristband of my watch. It's a tattoo that is more for me than for any public display of attention. It's a reminder for me to always say what I mean, put my money where my mouth is, and deal with the consequences of my actions, in addition to what x symbolizes-which is a many varied thing.

It was the semester after I graduated (graduated in the winter) when I bonded with two lacrosse coaches while working my first job after college and made the "mistake" of saying, "oh i've always wanted to get a tattoo!" They each had at least three or four tattoos and so I found myself choosing a date and time to go get a tattoo, because like I said, these coaches are people who take what you say seriously and I wasn't about to back away.

Yes, I had always toyed with the idea of a tattoo, more from an ideal, romantic perspective, not a truly serious one. But when I said I'd get one, I gave it some serious thought and realized my need for follow through- i needed to leave the flakiness of my college life behind when I constantly over-committed to being in two places at once and jumped from activity to activity, friend group to friend group. I began contemplating what would I like to have permanently drawn on my body- what would be something that would last for eternity (my whole earthly life) that I would never tired of, only appreciate more with time, and not once regret.

That's a tall order. The infinity sign was out of the question because a very dear friend already had that and in no way shape or form would it be okay to copy her.  So my quest for the perfect tattoo that would represent eternity continued. Being an almost math major, my mind naturally drifted to mathematical symbols and thought what if I did a limit function! As x approaches infinity something! But then that didn't really make sense mathematically because i didn't actually want an entire math function on my wrist.

I also didn't really want anything that had words or limited symbols of one language or culture. A symbol, a true symbol was what i wanted so that if aliens came to earth they would be able to interpret the symbol in their own way. I didn't want any prior knowledge necessary to limit my tattoo to a certain time or space.

That sentiment didn't exactly pan out, but I am okay with that.  I finally settled on "x", a variable to represent any unknown I want it to represent. As time has progressed, the x has taken on many layers of meaning through it's simplicity. A variable that varies its meaning.  A variable that represent the unknown.  That represents uncertainty.  A variable that can name uncertainty that somehow makes its a certainty.

Can you see what Bible verse it is leading up to? My favorite of all time: Hebrews 11:1.  Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. In my quest to find the perfect tattoo, I found an important symbol to be an outward sign of a inner resolve to take the next step in life, uncertain as life is when graduating from one thing to the next.

The tattoo represents my commitment to the unknown, to uncertainty, and to my beliefs in believing despite not knowing all that will happen.  That summer I read " The Shack" and while I despised its prose and the fact every sentence started the same, there were a couple lines and ideas I liked. The one line I especially liked was this, and is basically a paraphrase of Hebrews 11:1 : " Faith does not grow in the hothouse of certainty."  And that line sums up well what I committed myself to that spring after graduation. I committed to hoping in what I could not see, committed to the unknown, committed to Faith that God will lead me in the right path and that I could follow and not fear. In some ways, committing to uncertainty, was going to help me commit to the rest of my life: to my first full time job, to a potential serious relationship (something I had never been able to do), to commit to growing up and taking responsibility for myself and my actions.

And all that started with committing to permanently tattooing something on my body as a lasting reminder of commitment, of follow through, of believing despite not knowing, of having Faith.  And yes, sometimes I do wish I didn't have a tattoo- why would I want something I couldn't get rid of!! But that humbles me, too. And I appreciate how that drives me to humility. And believe it or not, taking a step of faith towards commitment, has helped me commit. To a job, to a husband, to a child, to God, to life, to good times and bad, and to Jesus. And for that I am thankful. It's also sort of cool that x is "chi" in greek, which is the first letter of Christ.  So what I have also committed to is Christ and he has marked me as His own forever. And I have a permanent outward sign of that on an inconspicuous place on my wrist, a place I can cover up or show off.  Glory be to God the father, and the son, and the holy spirit. Amen.

A great cloud of witnesses

I love running in races. The energy of fellow runners, the masses of people behind and in front of you, and well marked course to follow with a finish line all appease something inside of me. Probably that something is some sort of attraction to challenge and senses of accomplishment. Paul had it right if he compared the challenge of the christian faith with a road race: it's hard when you are in the middle of it, pushing towards the end, but once you've reached the end- boy, is it worth it. Every race I've run, it's felt like that. In the middle, you think, what have I committed to?? But when that I cross that finish line, all the momentary troubles cease and the triumph of triumphing is what I leave with. A glorious feeling of victory.

And all the thousands that run the race with me, most likely also feel the same... why else do you run races? It's an addiction that feeling at the end of the race. That sense of accomplishment, personal victory, the overcoming, the perseverance, the endorphins pulsing in your body, all good things that come of having fought the fight to train your body and run. It does the mind, heart, body, and soul a lot of good.

What also does my heart, mind, body, and soul good is to run in a great cloud of people. It is a crazy feeling of deep community to run with other people who have made the same choice as me to run a race and see it through. I don't know their names and I don't know their paces (except as faster or slower than mine), but I am encouraged by them and that propels me forward to the end.  I will probably not know their names, but something unites us- and that's cool.  As all the psychologists say humans are social creatures- we need communion to feel most ourselves. And like rock concerts, football games, and races, we like to feel apart of something bigger than ourselves. That we are not alone. And a race is a way to connect in the modern age of individualism and isolation. It's a bonding thing. And it's addicting.

 I've run probably on average one or two races a year since I began running my second year of college- before that I was a swimmer and had no land legs. And every race I run only makes me want to run more races. 5K, 10K, 10 Miler, half marathon, you name it and I'll probably start drooling at the thought of running one in the future. More t-shirts, more sweat, more grueling training, but more sense of accomplishment and connection.  People who organize races must make a killing on all the endorphin, long distance junkies out there- because there are a lot. I just ran with about 4 thousand of them this past Saturday!

And yeah, I guess I could go so far as to say that Church bodies should be like road races: places for great communion and personal victories and grueling training.  But I am not sure that is what they are or maybe they aren't suppose to be a place for those things. But maybe they are in some ways- spiritual, emotional, personal ways- less physical and outward ones. Who knows? I don't think we've reached the finish line yet!

An Unquiet Mind

is a book by Dr. Kay Jamison, who not only wrote the psychology textbook on manic depressive bipolar disorder, but suffers from the mental illness as well.  I recently read this book as a family member has been recently diagnosed with this mental illness. In hopes of us better understanding what she is going through, she recommended this book as a way to peer into her world of bipolarism. I found the text absolutely fascinating, less because of the mental illness, but more due to the remarkable life of Kay Jamison and the interesting themes presented in her autobiography.  In the midst of all her madness and depression and mania, there was a underlying current of love, hope, strength, and even faith that made it inspirational and enjoyable to read- though religion never made it into any expository form. I appreciate the way that she tried very hard to point out the triumphs and advantages of her illness, not only the dark times.  That balance of the good and the bad made the book helpful and posed very good questions  for self reflection about how our culture perceives mental illnesses.

In my personal life, I have had limited exposure to mental illness until recently. My grandmother is mentally ill, but I don't know much about her situation- just that it has been hard and painful.  Now that my sister in law has been diagnosed with bipolarism, I am beginning to see the effects of the disease more closely. It's interesting the lines you feel like you have to walk and they aren't easy and often confusing and the feelings of helplessness and uncertainty are astounding. You know they are 'sick', but how much do you let them make their own choices and lead their own life and how much do you second guess them? The memoir was somewhat helpful in its basic reiteration that manic-depressives should not get off lithum, but that more help, like psychotherapy, is needed, not just medication. But any more insight beyond that was limited. You basically hope the person makes a choice to stay on their meds and doesn't let the mania or the depression overtake their life.

Which bring me to the question what is the connection between faith and mental illness? I am a big proponent of working with the physical, biological world as well as the spiritual world to stay on top of it all.  I also am of the belief there is a strong connection between the mind, heart, body, soul, and spirit. Get anyone of them out of whack and there are repercussions in the other areas. Yet at the same time, depression and spirituality feel linked. I cannot recall all the spiritual memoirs, there have been many,  where I've read that many spiritual "greats" suffered one way or the other with depression or a mental illness. In a book that may be called "Messy Christianity," (I can't remember the exact title), there was a story of a women who was revered in her community as a great and faithful prayer warrior, yet, when interviewed she admitted to struggling with severe depression.  King David is often given as an example of a manic depressive person in the Bible with his psalms as proof of high highs, and low lows. So to be a Christian does not mean you are opted out of suffering a mental illness- just like you aren't guaranteed prosperity, health, and what ever else "good" people are supposed to have. Just what does it mean to have a mental illness and a strong spiritual life?

What I wish I knew more about is the relationship and tension between a relationship with Christ and depression. Thankfully, it is easier to come out in the church that you are struggling with depression in this post baby boom world. I know post college, post marriage I have struggled a lot to find 'the joy of the Lord' that once I felt was a trademark of my personality.  I think of lot of that had to with emotional and physical stress I often put on myself.  Experiencing 4 or 5 major life stressors all at once IS NOT a good idea. Try to space out moving to a new city, starting a new job, getting married, and getting pregnant as much as possible- your mental sanity will thank you for it. And unlike, what Dr. Jamison experienced in her periods of depression, I knew that what was happening was due to things outside of me, not a "darkness within." But at the same time, I can identify with dealing with feeling like there was a weight or darkness placed upon my soul.

I once blamed the place I lived and environment can play into it. Dr. Jamison in her book made a strong case that her change of environment (from the East to the West coast) played a large part of her illness manifesting itself- for her and for her father. Now though I think a lot of my struggle to have joy/find meaning/ feel good has to do with the physical stress on my body during pregnancy. My neighbor down the street goes through the same thing when pregnant. She went as far to say that she thought her life and her marriage were falling apart until she realized it was just how she felt when she was pregnant. Once she wasn't pregnant, she bounced back and found joy and contentment in her life. It's great to know I am not alone in feeling like this! And I also appreciate knowing there is a time limit to my feeling down and going through a hard time, mentally and physically, but at the same time, it doesn't make the journey any easier. And in no way shape or form have I lost my faith or truly doubted during my downs. Yes, I felt frustrated, I've asked why? I've shaken my fist in anger and maybe resentment, but I've not really doubted. Just tried to get through it.

And where was/is God in all this? I sort of take the approach that He's where He's always been. Just because he doesn't feel close, doesn't mean he isn't. He is the same, yesterday, and tomorrow.  Even though, I am changing and growing or un-growing or what ever it is i am going through, He promises are still true. And I can trust that. And trust that it doesn't depend on me feeling good and happy, it only matters that God works in all things. That He'll be there at the end of the road, waiting to take my burdens and my tears and give me a crown of glory. Sometimes I don't think it matters what you do on the journey, only that you make it. Stick with it. Like Jacob who became Israel- he who wrestles- and who wrestles out a blessing, nonetheless.

And who ever said the journey was going to be easy, mentally healthy or not?




SIDENOTES:
I have always loved learning about the brain. Probably 75 percent of why I became a teacher was due to my fascination with how adolescent brains work, and more importantly how they learn (or don't learn as i found out teaching the population I taught for my first two years). In another life, I'll probably want to take the same life course that Dr. Jamison did: get a BS, then a PHD in psychology and spend my life researching functioning and non-functioning brains.

Even in my master's in foreign language program was heavy on studying the brain- or more specifically how does the brain change when learning a second language. Wernecke's area and Broca's anyone?

In my professional life, there have always been at least 2 or 3 kids per class that struggle with either a learning disability, an emotional behavioral disorder, or something else that has allowed them an IEP to get extra help. One girl in one of my high school Algebra classes straight up told me on the first day of class that she was bipolar like it was a warning that I should prepare myself for difficult interaction. Amazingly,  she was always perfectly lovely in my class and did well. EBD kids were the ones that would walk into the classroom and I had about 5 seconds to diffuse the situations before desks started to fly- those were intense, but I grew proud of the way we learned to handle it. "let's forget about what happen outside and do some math; i don't know what happend to make you upset, but let's put it behind us and move on, " was my approach that usually was successful. These Special Ed kids have always been a favorite of mine to teach. Why? The highs (gains) are higher and the lows lower. I have always had a soft spot for the underdogs and special ed kids have to overcome a lot more than the average kid to succeed.  When they do, it's one of the those moments that make life worth all the work- that make teaching so rewarding.


There are many questions to explore about healthy brains, unhealthy brains, spirituality, and Christianity- maybe one day I'll delve into them a bit more! I can dream ...

My favorite poetic/mysterious/ponderific bible verses

Last night when I couldn't sleep (Daniel was gone on business and i am pregnant both of which increase my chances of a shoddy night of sleep), I mulled over some of my favorite poetic bible verses.

Verses that puzzle me because they're a bit mysterious in their meaning. I imagined, in my quest for sleep, that if I ever became a reclusive spiritual guru in the mountains, these would probably be the mysterious words of wisdom I would give anyone who came to me looking for answers to their life problems.

In no particular order they are(and feel free to go on a bible verse treasure hunt to find the references, I am writing them by memory, btw; and they are mostly likely niv since that's what i memorized in my christian school educated childhood):

1. "Wisdom is proved right by her children."

2. "Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it again. "

3. "Whether a tree falls to the north or the south, there it will lie. "

4. "When a cloud is full of water, it rains down upon the earth. "

5. "No sign will be given but the sign of Jonah."

6. "Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away."


I love these verses. Maybe because they are vague, or not so vague. Or maybe because of the strong poetic images or maybe it's the myriad of ways they can be applied or mulled over.  Took me a long time to figure out what the sign of jonah was ( and it's not just/only/really three days in the belly of a whale).

What are your favorite verses that make you smile, think, see the world in a new kind of metaphor?

Day 8 (a post easter countdown)- The Culture of Shame or The Search for Beauty

NPR recently aired a "This American Life" on the Ten Commandments. While, as always, thought provoking and amusing, their piece on commandment 7 touched a raw nerve. For this segment, they talked to a guy who grew up in an Evangelical church about his struggle with trying to never have a lustful thought.

My blood boiled listening to it. He and his childhood friend talked about never looking at a girl or thinking of them  only having heads and mostly, trying to avoid them at all costs. Their need to obey the law of Christ to not commit adultery was imperative. And so they went through high school and college trying to never come into contact them. WTH?

Oh, lasting effects of Puritanism where women are evil, temptations, objects to be avoided. NOT HUMANS!?!!?!?  Seriously, brought up the baggage of my slow realization in college about how Christian guys can treat girls. And honestly, I am so thankful that I made friends with non Christian guys who treated well enough to undo all the complexes that my christian guys "friends" gave me. Thank goodness, there are guys out there that know how to treat girls normally in college or at least treat us as worthy and capable of good conversation, hang out time, good times, and friendship. We are not all on the husband hunt or trying to seduce, fyi.

And that is my beef with Puritanism, Evangelical male teachings on lust, and this whole drive for Christian guys to band together against the fight against lust: it makes not so great brothers in Christ. And I think the way Christian guys treat girls are somewhat responsible for making girls crazy and provocative. Girls need male attention ( it's a curse from Genesis 3), so if they don't get in positive ways, they'll get it negatively. GRRRR.There are ways to harness pent up sexual tension in more healthy ways- there just has to be!!

That's why I wish America in general was not so prude and a little more European(French) in its appreciation of beauty and the female body. Not to say that everything is perfect with how European males view women*, but to me, it is a way more healthy interaction on my end in my feminine perspective.  I'm not something to be kicked to the curb in the pursuit of godliness, but welcomed as a pleasure in life. Beauty is pleasing and a gift. The French [seem to] understand that better than any other culture.

In Europe, there's a feeling that a women's beauty is embraced, celebrated, and appreciated- not avoided, spurned, and subtly destroyed. Yep, women go topless on beaches, and it's not weird or highly sexualized as it would be in America. Why can a bunch of women go topless and not cause a stampede of indignation in Europe, but not in America? I think it is how they appreciate and expose the female body from a very young age.

True story: when I was in France with a relative during high school, we stayed with her sister's family. As I read everything, I read the kid's weekly newsletter and it had this anagram game. You know the one where a picture of a bee represents the sound 'b'. Well, what do you know but one of this picture games had a drawing of a naked female breast. In a newsletter for 7 year old french kids.  When I, in shock, pointed it out to the host family, they started to solve the puzzle for me and didn't understand at all about what I was concerned. My objection went completely over their heads: they couldn't contemplate why I would have a problem with a naked breast on the cover of a kid's publication.

Add all the art of naked women, all the statues, paintings, what have you, and the sight of a female breast probably doesn't phase the French or European as it would Americans. So yeah, I think maybe we should expose our kids more to the female breast in neutral ways NOT only sexualized ways, and maybe we wouldn't have as many crazed, lustful men out there. Just a thought. Maybe we wouldn't have girls asking for attention in so many negative ways, too, because their male peers would treat them better and know how to treat them and not sexualize them. WHOA. What about that? Not sexualizing the human body? Adam and Eve were naked in the garden and cool with it. Why can't we be cool with other people being naked? WHY WHY WHY?

The answer is of course the Devil who distorts all good things to his demented pleasures. He wants guys living in shame for what their bodies do and he wants girls living in shame for just having a body.  If only we could only remember Haymitch's words to Katniss in the second hunger games books: "remember who the real enemy is." Men: women and their beauty and their bodies are not the enemy. Women: your bodies are not the enemy! Your body is beautiful.  I wished wished wished we lived in a world where we, women, heard that loud and clear and true.

It took me living in Europe, took non christian guy friends, prayer, a deeper relationship with God to get through my body issues. And now, I really don't ever feeling like "shutting off" my "beauty"   - which I definitely think there is pressure to do in order to be a perfect Christian modest women. I don't buy it. I lived my adolescence trying to hide and cover up so I wouldn't be a 'stumbling block' and you know what, it was restrictive, repressing, not edifying nor Life giving. So I don't think that is what God has for me. And if a brother stumbles, well, it's his old dang fault. Go hang out at a topless beach in the south of france, go to the art museum and stare at all those statues of goddesses, do what ever you have to in order to appreciate the female form as something of beauty and not a lustful, sexual object. Because that is not what women are all about. Yes, we are not just bodies, not just for sex or lust, men, contrary to a lot of beliefs. There is more to us that really should be what draws us together... and it should be the same things that draw men together: our common bonds of humanity.

And yes, beauty is what a huge part of what a woman is- no matter what she looks like. The essence of woman is beautiful. It is how God created us.  It is at the core of who we are, no matter our dress size, facial features, education, graciousness or lack there of. And it is often hidden, misdirected, destroyed, and abused- by men and women. And I think that is a far worse sin than lust.

So what would I say to all those pastors out there counseling men who struggle with sexual sins? Besides, desensitize yourself to the female form and start thinking in more european terms of sexuality? Pursue women as sisters of Christ. Befriend them. Share your struggles with them. Let them share their struggles with you. And I think you will find the common enemy Satan bested. Males need female perspectives and vice versa. Nothing will happen if males stay in their male boxes with other males and don't have to interact with the "other" in this case, Females. Same goes for females, though we have been working out our struggles without male help for a lot longer out of necessity rather than choice. I'm serious, positive female interaction in non sexual contexts will help. Learning women, any woman, are their sisters, no matter what they are wearing should help.  Gender struggles should be more out in the open!!! Not in puritan segregated female and male boxes. If anything,  [straight] males need to ask forgiveness of females because that who they are also sinning against with their sexual sins, but do they ever ask for forgiveness? Nope. Probably because of all that subconscious training that women are sub-class humans and not worthy of one. (ok,ok, going a bit too far there, but would love to hear the reasoning why men should not confess to women their sins against them. if every guy had to confess to a girl in the congregation about their sexual sin, don't you think they'd think twice about committing one in the future... yes, i am using shame as a motivator here, but the good conscious kind that makes you better and heals, not hurts you).  Oh, well, one day, maybe...Lord, help us and have mercy!

*As much as I think the European male perspective on the female body is a lot healthier for a women's mental health, there are lots of other European male gender views I do not agree with. Nor do I think E. males are any less sex driven- men are men. And women are still very much treated as lesser equals and as having predetermined gender roles to a greater extent in Europe than the US. The lack of opportunities for young girls to play sports is an example of this mindset that I don't agree with and that I think America gets right. It's the idea that women are more comfortable in their bodies and being beautiful that I admire- that freedom to be a woman and to be appreciated for what that entails is what I wish Americans embraced more. And the fact men encourage that attitude ( no matter their motives).  I think a mixture of the two perspectives is what would be ideal: equal and beautiful. not unequal and something to ignore/avoid/exploit.

** I love people watching, especially at the beach. Last week at the beach, there was an eighty year old woman in a string bikini and my heart leaped for joy. "there's a woman comfortable with her beautiful body, wrinkles, sagging muscles, and all," I thought to myself. And more women need to feel that freedom to walk around in string bikinis and be okay with their body and beauty.  Every woman is beautiful. The more different looking the better. Every woman's beauty is a unique reflection of God's beauty- so let it shine!
If only that was the world we lived in! Most women are stuck with eating disorders, depression, low self esteem, and what have you because we don't know how to handle the beauty that God has given us. Dear God, come redeem us women! Break free our bounds and let us shine forth with all that you have given us. Release us from Satan's grasp. Let us embrace our bodies as you embrace the Church and call her perfect despite imperfections. May we treat ourselves and others rightly. May we know and understand that we will stand before you naked and you will find us worthy and beautiful. In your name, Jesus, Amen.

Day 93- Shoe Addict

Today, I got my spring splurge in the mail: two new pairs of of wonderfully beautiful shoes. After giving away my red toms last year (why oh why did I do that?) and see them everywhere (seriously everyone has a pair of red toms,.I bought mine on my honeymoon in 2009!), I've moved on to the new hit shoe, the French Bensimon. So excited to wear them. I also bought a pair of boat shoes. Not for any particular reason, I am probably 8 years behind that trend- fondly remember my roommates wearing sperrys (and mine are not sperry's!).Why did I buy them, then? To get free shipping and to have another pair of shoes.

I am a shoe person. I love my shoes. Have way too many of them, too, but miss any pair of shoes I give away. Why? Because they tell my story. ( Pink Saucony's where oh where did you go? I love you so! I am so sorry I gave you away!). Some people scrapbook, some people have tons of photos on Facebook, some people collect spoons or knickknacks, I have shoes. Shoes are how I remember my life. I fondly remember the shoes I wore in Italy, in France, in Hawaii. Shoes I wore in college and post college, to this wedding and that. I love thinking back on all those adventures. Hiking the Na Pali Coast in Chacos (not a good idea). Buying super comfy sandals at the Trastevere or Porta Portese market in Rome. My life is chronicled by the different shoes I wore in any given season. And in any given season, there are only a couple pairs of shoes I wear. I said I love my shoes, so I love them. Wear them until they are disgusting looking and worn out (sorry, black converses, it's almost time for you to go, even though I'll remember wearing you every dress down day at my first teaching job). Why did I give those snake skin flats away from H&M ( oh yeah, they were a bit too big and students would make fun of me for wearing them saying I was too loud in the hall way clack clack clacking... oh teaching in high school...).

It might be strange to store memories in pairs of shoes, but what can you do? I am who I am. And I am a person can't resist a good pair of shoes. I still have a pair of heels I bought in New York at Century 21 when I had my first job away from home over 10 years ago. They sort of signify my coming into adulthood and growing autonomy.  I will probably have my cowboy boots and riding boots that I bought with one of my first paychecks for forever; a) because I sank a whole lot of money into them and b) they marked the transition from dependence on my parents to independence and dependence on myself. Who I have been and who I am becoming are shown through my shoe purchases. I might be hitting a dead horse with these examples, but they all show that shoes some how relate to my identity. I remember who I am or how I've grown through the different shoes I've worn.

For me it's shoes, for God, it's people. God chronicles himself and his stories through people. The most obvious ones are found in the Bible. God chooses to remember what He has done throughout the ages, Who He Is, through people. We know God, we remember God, through his interactions with different people. Starting with Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham, and unto David, Solomon, the prophets, then Jesus, the disciples, Paul, and finally, us. God chooses to make himself known through us, his people. We are all being amassed into one huge collective shoe closet to sing his praises and to remember all that he has done, does, and will do.

And I don't know if that comforts you in any way, especially since he works in us in very different ways, just like there are very different types of shoes out there. Some of us are work boots, some of us are fancy heels, or comfortable slippers, or sandals, tennis shoes, you name it.  Our story is different from one to the next. But one thing that is the same, we are all His. And He remembers us and chooses us to play a specific role in His story. We are for His glory, His memory, His love. So just remember, you serve a purpose, one that is practical and one that is for pleasure. Just like my new pairs of shoes. So enjoy the journey. God is working in you! He is marking you as his own and will remember you all the days of his life. Amen.

Day 92- Missing a piece of me

Evelyn is with her grandparents and Uncle Al for the week. They are at the beach enjoying the sand and the sun, 8 hours away. And while I know she is in good hands, her grandparents (on both sides) and Uncle Alex are her favorite people in the entire world and everything will be great, there is still this ache, this hole of not having her nearby. And I don't like it.

It's not separation anxiety, because I am not [that] anxious. It's not a true loss, because I'll see her on Thursday.  Yet, there is this sense that a part of me is missing. I am not whole without her. I am not me without her. I am a mom without a kid and that is weird. I guess technically, I am not truly alone because there is another one growing inside me; one follows me around, sucking all my energy and calories and good moods out of me so I am a horrible nauseated mess (what mothers do/build for love!). But, this new little person is not out in the world yet, and so I am stuck longing for my other half of my half, my daily companion, the one who gives me cute snuggles and crazy laughs and so much joy because she is so full of life.

I feel a little what God must have felt when Adam and Eve left the garden ( okay, not really, but follow me on this stretch). His children left him. His creatures were no longer his constant companions, beings upon whom he could pour out his love, spirit, and knowledge. Granted, there was justice behind their separation and my daughter has done nothing wrong to cause us to separate (it's more mercantile; free babysitting while I work!) but the idea of separation is what i am getting at. I am separated from my daughter whom I love. God separated from Adam and Eve whom he loved and it all started when they sinned in the garden. The ache and the desire for the other is very real and very strong.

And the funny thing is, I don't think it's reciprocal. I know at some level Evelyn misses me, but I also know she's probably not that aware of it (because she has too many novelties to distract her). I wonder if Adam and Eve missed God, but like Evelyn, had other worries and concerns before them that they couldn't really articulate the ache, the hole, the missing piece in their lives.  Because, do humans really ever articulate the ache, the holes, the missing pieces in their lives that directly relate to that separation of God (outside of the Christian faith)? Nope. I don't think so. I don't think people acknowledge those aches, because they don't know any better- they haven't any idea what it means to be a child that walks with God. They don't know how separated from God they are.  And that's why, in my opinion, so much chaos reigns in the world. People are trying to fill holes they don't know how to articulate and that only God can fill and they constantly go from wrong to wrong to more wrong ways of dealing with it.

Christians are aware of this ache of separation, or at least I hope they are. But still, even we get carried away by other novelties we think can fill those holes: success, morality, legalism, wealth, altruism, holiness. But none of those things can really fill or breach the separation. Only God can. Only a person can. Because it's that relationship, those walks in the garden with God that we are missing, that we yearn for, long for, need.  Interacting with God as a person is the only way we can become whole again, unbroken.

And the only way back to relationship with God is through Jesus and his death on the cross. As Holy Week commences my thoughts turn to that reconciliation of God and Man made possible by Jesus. And I am grateful. Grateful for God's ache for me. So grateful that God so ached to be in relationship with me, He sent His son to make it happen, so that I can walk with him again. It's simple and profound. God came and walked again on earth so that we could know him again and love him again and be loved by him once more. He came so we can be reunited with our missing pieces!

And I cannot wait to reunite with Evelyn. It's only three days and a plane flight away, but it can't come too soon. Granted, I might enjoy some "me" time where I don't have to be on call and constantly pumping out love and energy or whatever she might need. But in that "me" time, separation woes still plague me. And they remind me that I don't mind all that I have to do to be a mom.  It's my eternal pleasure to love someone and to be the nurturing presence in their life. I rather be doing that then having these aches and pangs of separation. Just like I imagine God would rather take eternal pleasure in relationship with us, then to ache for us.  Nobody likes missing pieces, even God.