at the close of 2014

Posting this again because I love it.


Our Ends Are Beginnings by ParadisiacPicture on DeviantArt

In Short: Why I Love Harry Potter

In addition to my predetermined Advent reading, I've also indulged in a little Harry Potter re-reading. (If the 870 pages of Order of the Phoenix can be called "a little.") In the final chapter, I discovered this gem, which I'm pretty sure I missed every other time I read it.

"There were still deep welts on his forearms where the brain's tentacles had wrapped around him. According to Madam Pomfrey, thoughts could leave deeper scarring than almost anything else, though since she had started applying copious amounts of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction, there seemed to be some improvement."

Weaving together the whimsical and the profound in a single sentence, with a touch of humor. (And the idea that thoughts can cause more damage than any other kind of wound...how had I missed that little side commentary before?) If you haven't read this series lately, I highly recommend it. It means at least as much to me now as it did when I first read it as a child. Now more than ever, I can see that it's the perfect combination of an exciting fantasy world, excellent character development and writing style, and - in an incredibly heartfelt, honest manner - the simple triumph of good over evil.

Advent/Darkness

Foremost on my mind this week is the difficulty in reconciling the hope of this season with the incredible brokenness of this world. Perhaps it's always been this way, but for whatever reason, the past few weeks and months have felt like one horrible thing after another, just piling on and on and on. It could be my propensity for reading the news nowadays, a stark contrast to my college days of basically existing in a world independent of politics and international news. Anyway, some days I've felt like it's too much. Ferguson/police brutality, war and its victims worldwide, the continual poisoning of the Earth, the pervasiveness of rape and sexual assault (and the denial of such) connected to Bill Cosby, UVA, and also everywhere in the world....and more. Much more.

I care about it all, and I want to honor these situations by giving them my full attention and access to my emotions. I won't give in to that instinct to look away. And yet, it's too much for me to carry.

I began to realize that this is why we need Advent. Not because it's easy to feel happy and hopeful, but because the darkness of the world is crying out for light.

I think Christena Cleveland says it best in her blog post entitled "Advent/Darkness":

We’ve been tricked by chocolate-filled Advent calendars and blissful Christmas pageants that gloss over the very real evil that makes the Messiah’s coming so very necessary, so very loving, and so very heroic.

Advent isn’t a holiday party. It doesn’t pressure us to conjure up a hopeful face, ring bells, and dismiss the foulest realities we face. Advent isn’t about our best world, it’s about our worst world. I think we eat the chocolate and put on the pageants because we don’t want to face the worst. [...] 

Advent is an invitation to plunge into the deep, dark waters of our worst world, knowing that when we re-surface for air we will encounter the hopeful, hovering Spirit of God. For when we dive into the depths of our worst world, we reach a critical point at which our chocolate and pageants no longer satiate our longing for hope – and we are liberated by this realization. Indeed, the light of true hope is found in the midst of darkness. [...]

Advent/Darkness

Advent/Ferguson

Advent/Hunger 

Advent/Apathy 

Advent/Fatherlessness 

Advent/Oppression of Indigenous Peoples 

Advent/ISIS 

Advent/Political polarization 

Advent/Human trafficking 

Advent/Mental illness stigma 

Advent/Ebola treatment inequality 

Advent/Immigration injustice 

Advent/Rioting 

Advent/Privilege 

Advent/School-to-Prison Pipeline 

Advent/West Bank 

Advent/Spiritual Abuse 

Advent/Economic inequality 

Advent/Myanmar 

Advent/Segregated churches 

Advent/Poverty 

Advent/Police brutality 

Advent/Global oppression of women and girls 

Advent/Marginalization 

Advent/Darkness

Come, Lord Jesus. Come.

http://www.christenacleveland.com/2014/11/adventdarkness/

Advent reading

Advent is one of my favorite times of the year. Not just because looking forward to Christmas is almost as fun as Christmas itself, but because there's something powerful in the waiting.

This year, as consumer culture urges me to want, to spend, and to be frantic, I find the desire to turn inward more compelling. The turning-inward culture of Christian Advent embraces quietness, reflection, inner peace, and true joy -- and these are the things I actually need.

I've discovered that the stories I participate in shape my thinking, my dearly held beliefs, and my everyday choices. Stories from friends and family, of course, but also stories from elsewhere in the world, and even imagined stories. I think that's why books have held such a central role in my life ever since I learned to read: stories add to my landscape in a profound way, no matter where they come from or whether or not they are "true." With that knowledge, I've chosen the following books to guide me through Advent, as I seek greater meaning than what consumer culture offers. Since I can choose to some extent which voices are in my head, this seems like a good time to choose with intention.

1. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
This beautiful story is important to me any time of the year, and I'm not sure if I've ever read it at Christmas, but it seems to fit in perfectly. The imagery of the coming of Jesus in a formerly bleak, joyless world is striking, and who can forget the moment when Christmas comes for the first time? Or the moment when the sleigh slows because the snow is melting? Or the conversation between Aslan and the White Witch about the Deep Magic, laid out since the beginning of time, more powerful than life itself...

2. Jesus for President by Shane Claiborne
A focus on the social and political backdrop during Jesus's life while exploring Jesus's teachings about a radical lifestyle. I need more of this.

3. What's in the Blood and I Saw God Dancing by Cheryl Denise
I don't spend a lot of time reading poetry, but when I do, I love it for its ability to make me feel calm, refreshed, and amazed all at the same time. These books are lovely - rooted in the Mennonite tradition, strong themes involving nature and the beauty of humanity, and weaving everything together with a touch of humor.

4. The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin
This author spends a year trying to discover what actually makes her happy and exploring why so many people go through life without really being happy. I think Advent is a time to let go of certain expectations in order to seek out a life of joy.

5. The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
One of my all-time favorite books, this story reminds me that life is magical. Its simple, limitless, childlike delight in experiencing the world should be at the heart of the Christmas season.

So what are you reading? And how is it shaping your life?

vantage point

Today, in my second-to-last week of summer, I'm trying to soak in this feeling of peace. Soon life will be much fuller, and I'm not sure if I'll be ready for it. Though I have not often managed throughout the summer to silence the call for productivity and busyness (ever present in my mind), I have still taken plenty of time for complete leisure, relaxation, even laziness. Now I try not to think of the tasks I have not crossed off the never-ending to-do list, but instead I think of the ways I have indulged in a slower pace of life. Looking back on the summer, it seems like I did indeed have that elusive slower-paced life -- even if it didn't always feel that way -- and I am thankful.
I'm also trying to be content in the moment (so hard for me to do), knowing that in a few months I'll be longing for days like today, where I had plenty of time for many of my favorite things. This feeling of end-of-summer contentment, anticipating a change, could be summed up in a moment from this afternoon: when I stood in the open doorway of our new apartment, looking out, barefoot, eating a fresh nectarine with juice dripping from my fingers. Looking forward, feeling the sun and the breeze and the sweet air, tasting the goodness of life. This is the summertime way.

the truth in our path

"Occasionally he stumbled over the truth, but he always picked himself up and hurried on as if nothing had happened."
~Winston Churchill

This quote has been bumping around in my thoughts over the last week or two, and it seems to be an awfully accurate description of most mainstream American society.

So tell me - what moments of truth are you taking care to notice?

Two things that are worth spending 8 minutes on...

The two most recent vlogbrothers videos. Though very different, both are highly entertaining, thought provoking, and insightful. Have fun!

fragility in motion

Today I found out that a fellow camp counselor of four years went from whole to nothing in the space of a few hours. A blood clot, blocked lungs, and no oxygen, and that was it.

I can't say she was ever a close friend of mine, and I know she's dancing with Jesus now. But none of that changes the fact that one just cannot make sense of this. All of us, from her closest friends and family all the way out to people who barely knew her, are reeling from the mind-numbing WHY of it, and from our complete, total powerlessness to stop it.

In some cases there is a clear enemy. Death by war, violence, cancer, disease, accidents, all of these are their own kind of horror. But in all of them, we can point a shaking finger at THAT THING that took our loved one away.
I'm not saying that makes it easier in any way. It doesn't, I'm sure. But my fragile brain can't comprehend this -- the instant in which her body turned on itself and was destroyed. One tiny set of particles gone the wrong way, and like a set of dominoes, the whole system crashed down. No one could predict it, no one could stop it. And in the face of such an extreme declaration of human powerlessness, I am shaken to the core.

All this is starkly displayed on a backdrop of yesterday's events: my own trip to the emergency room with my husband after a bike accident. Of course it was awful, and I couldn't stand seeing him in so much pain, but at the end of the day we were home with his arm in a splint and a bottle of pills on the coffee table. I already knew at the time how fortunate we were to end an ER trip in this way. I didn't need another reminder that life is fragile, but here it is nonetheless.

And so I find myself staggering a little, unable to fathom the events of the day and how the families involved are shattered. Fully aware that it could have been I whose life was irreversibly altered by one day's rush to the hospital, but instead I am here, home and safe, with my loving partner on the mend.
Why? None of us will ever know.

seeking

My prayer these days is-

Please teach me to see that people are more important than their choices.
Grace upon grace upon grace...

~ ~ ~

Selflessness. Bravery.

These two themes flow through my thoughts often these days. It may have all started with yet another relentlessly addicting book (Divergent), but it has inspired some truly great channels of thought. (And, to my credit, I'm still savoring the first book, waiting a few weeks before I devour the next one. The anticipation is one of the best parts.)
Thoughts like: What ARE my fears, really? Maybe it's a sign that my life is too comfortable, if I can't easily identify them. Or - after marinating on this thought for a few days - I concluded that perhaps I really don't live my life in fear. Not that I have no fears, but that most days they're a healthy distance away from me. Maybe, maybe, I can strike that from the list of negative habits to break.

One of my Lenten meditations is to imagine each day that I have a great capacity for selflessness. I have realized that every day I am given what must be one hundred opportunities to be selfless, and how many of them do I take? And of the ones that I take, how often do I still hold bitterness in my heart?

But there is life still in these dry bones. And I am capable of grace.

So I remind myself that we can all use an extra helping of graciousness and understanding from our fellow humans... And maybe my feet will grow to be more deeply rooted in the God of grace.

it's good to be in Harrisonburg

Yesterday as I rode the city bus from my home to the stop near EMU, a rainbow blossomed out the window next to me, and by the time I got off it was a full arc across the eastern sky.

As I walked from the bus stop to the music building, I passed CJP and three of its staff standing outside looking upward. We shared short conversations (over the roar of cars passing), and that was nice.

As I walked down College Ave, I passed the Bible & Religion house and called a greeting to three more friendly faces of EMU, also standing outside looking eastward. Yes, I thought to myself, it is good to see familiar faces almost everywhere I go, and to be around people who take the time to notice beauty.

And today, I joined dozens of others to stitch bits of thread and love into comforters bound for MCC relief sites. I loved gathering together with a bunch of gray-haired ladies around this bright-patterned fabric that has already garnered many hours of work and meticulous attention, all for the sake of sending love to our sisters and brothers in other parts of the world. In the words of my wise grandmother, "I don't want to be one who is without compassion." She said this during a brief pause from her hard work today, but her hard work and deeply compassionate service took place not just today, but all year and in fact all her life.

So this week I am glad to be here and with the uncountable members of my many-layered community, which is defined not only by my families and workplaces and churches, but also by our common love for the world. May you also see this in your own community, wherever that may be, and give thanks for your place in a network of love.

looking for light

A Folk Tale About Worlds

A traveler came upon an old farmer hoeing in his field beside the road. Eager to rest his feet, the wanderer hailed the countryman, who seemed happy enough to straighten his back and talk for a moment.

“What sort of people live in the next town?” asked the stranger.

“What were the people like where you’ve come from?” replied the farmer, answering the question with another question.

“They were a bad lot. Troublemakers all, and lazy too. The most selfish people in the world, and not a one of them to be trusted. I’m happy to be leaving the scoundrels.”

“Is that so?” replied the old farmer. “Well, I’m afraid that you’ll find the same sort in the next town.”

Disappointed, the traveler trudged on his way, and the farmer returned to his work.

Some time later another stranger, coming from the same direction, hailed the farmer, and they stopped to talk. “What sort of people live in the next town?” he asked.

“What were the people like where you’ve come from?” replied the farmer once again.

“They were the best people in the world. Hard working, honest, and friendly. I’m sorry to be leaving them.”

“Fear not,” said the farmer. “You’ll find the same sort in the next town.”