Category Archives: Following Jesus

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Love’s Recovery

during the time of which I speak
it was hard to turn the other cheek
to the blows of insecurity.
feeding the cancer of my intellect
the blood of love, soon neglected,
lay dying in the strength of its impurity.

Have you ever had a time in your life where you felt beat down by another’s insecurities? Felt captive to  a cancer that slowly ate away at your sense of self, sense of value and desireable-ness? You watch helplessly as the love in your heart just shrivels up and dies. Your love for yourself, your love for others, perhaps even your love for God. Life seems to unravel at it’s seams… you unravel along with it. Slowly, like rush hour traffic on the 405, your life devolves into a brutal fight for survival. Survival of your own soul. And it doesn’t matter who gets hurt in your attempt to live.

meanwhile the friends we thought were so together
they’ve all gone and left each other
in search of fairer weather

we sit here in our storm and
drink a toast to the slim chance of
love’s recovery

A year of my life was spent in that kind of hell. Life started out like a dream… a budding romance, with flowers, amazing dates and all the excitement and newness of getting to know a new lover. Then the blows began…  I ignored the first few, thinking surely my new lover didn’t mean to hurt me. It was a mistake, an aberration… But the blows didn’t quit. My new lover was insecure.

They were all insecure. I don’t know who started it, or how it all began. And frankly, I don’t care anymore. I just know I walked into what I thought was going to be a great new adventure, and instead found myself in the middle of a mess. A battlefield where neither side trusted me and no one was secure enough in their own selves to know whether they really wanted me on their "side."

It got harder and harder to turn the other cheek to the blows of another’s insecurity… not to mention the blows of my own insecurity that followed each of their blows. I had no where to go. No sanctuary from the arrows that flew. I tried to embrace the reality. Tried to keep my head in the midst of the insanity of battle. But I slid on the all the blood… and fell.

I found myself nearly drowning in a sea of red. Their blood, my blood — it all mixed together. It’s amazing how on a battlefield, you can’t tell the difference between the blood of your "side" and the blood of the "others".

there I am in younger days, stargazing
painting picture-perfect maps
of how my life and love would be.
not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection,
my compass, faith in love’s perfection,
I missed a million miles of road I should’ve seen.

A black cancer grew deep within my soul. A cancer that fed on confusion, frustration, insecurity and unmet expectation. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be! This wasn’t the way I’d imagined giving my life away for Jesus would look. I didn’t understand why God would allow me to walk blindly into this mess. I cried out to Him.

He answered and met me. Deep intimacy followed. His roots dug deep into my soul, into places I never knew existed, into places I never knew He could reach. His roots took hold — somehow finding rich soil, how I don’t know… or perhaps He created the rich soil as He went… His roots took hold and have never let go. Never. Not even when I hacked at them in my panicked attempts to survive.

Yet the cancer grew. Months passed. Then suddenly confusion and frustration gave way to anger. Embers fanned. Flames burst forth. Clarity… I was a fool. A stargazing fool.

But I’m not an idiot. I  know  who I am. I know what I am and what I’m capable of. And I know who you say I am is not who I am. You don’t know crap. Stay away from me.

Life moved on. Like a dream — or perhaps, more accurately, a nightmare — it suddenly shifted focus and location. New battles raged and more wounds felled my soul. God had lifted me out of the sea of red… only to set me down in a valley where I created my own lake of blood and tears. And still, the cancer raged in my soul. In places I wouldn’t allow God to touch. Like a child who won’t allow her mom to put healing balms on a painful wound, I wouldn’t let God touch my cancer-infected places. It just hurt too much. Like a perfect Lover, He waited. He stayed with me. And waited.

Did He know this time would come? Did He know I would finally be strong enough to say, Cut the cancer out. Do whatever you must do to heal my soul. I believe. I believe You can. I believe You want to. I finally understand my redemption and restoration isn’t just about "someday, when we all get to heaven". I finally get that Your salvation is for here and now. I finally see that You want me to live in perfect Shalom with You now. Bring it on, Jesus. Please. Bring it on.

oh how I wish I were a trinity
so if I lost a part of me
I still have two of the same to live.
but nobody gets a lifetime rehearsal
as specks of dust were universal

so let this love survive
and be the greatest gift
that we could give.

tell all the friends who think they’re so together
that these are ghosts and mirages,
all these thoughts of fairer weather

though its stormy now
I feel safe within the arms of
love’s discovery

Sitting on my porch, looking at the brilliant colors of dying leaves, signaling a change in seasons, I sense a changing of the seasons of my soul as well. While I look out at signs that winter is coming — a blanket of cold, perhaps even ice, where all living things go to ground and the world as a result looks dead — I feel a stirring in my own soul, an awakening. Glowing embers being fanned into flame by the Wind, annoucning the arrival of spring.

I am out of sync with nature. But I feel so very in-sync with my God. Finally, the ice is melting. The cold of my soul winter is giving way to the warmth of my Beloved’s spring.

though its stormy now
I feel safe within the arms of
love’s discovery

"Love’s Recovery" written by the Indigo Girls, from their self-titled album

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Saved!

Adria and I watched the movie "Saved!" tonight. Wow. And whoa. I think I need to watch it again….

I highly recommend this movie. It was hysterical! And, unfortunately, so very true. There were many times I didn’t know whether to laugh, because honestly it was truly very funny… or whether to give into my embarrassment and hide my face in shame, because I’ve been that person, done that stuff, said those things, acted that way….

What a reality-check this movie was for me. The scenes where they are worshipping, I felt so uncomfortable… like I was either watching something I shouldn’t be a witness to (like two people making out), or like I was witnessing something that everyone knew was fake, but no one wanted to admit. I wonder if that’s how people who aren’t followers of Christ feel when they walk in on worship at churches?

It’s embarrassing to look back over my life and realize how many times I’ve acted like pretty much every character in the movie. I’ve been preachy, holier-than-thou-but-sincerely-intentioned Hilary Faye, and I’ve been rebellious Cassandra. I’ve been confused and earnest Mary, and misguided, troubled — dang, what was Mary’s boyfriend’s name?? — and push-around, passive aggressive Roland.

Amazingly enough, the most Christ-like character that I saw in the movie was the pastor/principal’s son — wish I could remember his character’s name as well… What he says to Mary, when her secret "sin" is finally, publicly, revealed is soooo Jesus: "Mary, I don’t care." How many times has Jesus said that to you when you’ve come to Him broken, ashamed and exposed? "I don’t care about that. It makes no difference to me. I love you. Period. Nothing can change that."

And Mary’s line at the end: "Why would God make us all so different, if He meant for us to all look the same?" Amen.

As usual, and as should be expected, they got some theology mixed up and backwards. But what I’m learning is that a little heresy is always to be expected. No one’s perfect, so no one’s gonna get all of God perfectly down. I think He knows that and is willing to work within the "margin of error". In my own life I’ve seen Him do WONDERS in that margin of error — which has often been a wide one.

Some of the classic lines I picked up from my first viewing:

"I hit Jesus with my van, EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY."

"This is NOT a weapon, you idiot!" Mary, indicating the Bible Hilary Fay just threw at her, hitting her square in the back

"This is the most Jesus-centric band…!!" Hilary Faye, referring to her favorite Christian band….
Side Note: I think I’m gonna start referring to things as "Christ-centric"… sarcastically of course, especially those "family friendly" Christian radio stations… but don’t get me started on THAT topic… (YIKES!)

"I just thought she was doing a lot of stress eating… I didn’t want her to get a complex." Mary’s mom

And I really liked the raw honesty of Mary, standing in front of the church steeple, swearing in frustration, fear, confusion and anger. Been there. Done that. Maybe that sounds and looks like heresy, but I’ve learned God appreciates it and honors it far more than when I try to be all holy and pious when all that’s in me is screaming to high heaven because my world is falling apart at the seams. I think this is a true example of God’s command to us to let our "yes" be "yes" and "no" be "no". Honesty. Integrity — who we are outside is who we are inside.

I really do want to watch it again. There’s so much in this movie… it’s subtle, but potent.

Again, I highly recommend it, especially for Christians. It’s good every once in a while to get a reality check on how the rest of the world sees us. I do have one warning: if you don’t want the truth, if you don’t want to feel uncomfortable or have your paradigms shaken, don’t watch. This is not the movie for you. This will not make Christians feel good about how we’ve communicated Jesus to the rest of our culture. Nor should it. We haven’t done a very good job.

Okay… end of sermon for the day… Time to listen to a little Mindy Smith, read a little Orson Scott Card and head off to bed.

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Pro-Life From The Other Side of The Stage

debg: The semantic I hate the most

I ran across a blog of an author I used to hang out with ages ago.  A self-proclaimed pagan, you wouldn’t think we’d have much of a chance of getting along… But truth be told, I liked her a lot, and rather admired her as well. I counted myself blessed that she accepted me as a friend even though I disagreed with pretty much everything she believed in. Not everyone does that. Christians, in fact, are the worst I’ve found at this. I’ve met many self-proclaimed Christians in my life who could all tie as the least tolerant people I’ve ever met. Sad, sad, shame. They look nothing at all like the Christ they are named for….

When I met Deb  I was still rather young — in my mid-to-late 20s — and still trying to figure out how to be a woman in this wild new world beyond school and mom and dad’s house.  Deb was a few years older, so I felt like a young apprentice at times, learning how to be a strong woman at the feet of a mighty warrior…. It wasn’t what she stood for that I admired so much — nor do I believe she admired me for what I stood for. I admired her for the guts she had to stand tall regardless what others said or thought. To stay true to her convictions, embrace and own them, believe them with all her heart and live them out no matter the personal cost.

Granted, it’s a lot easier for her to "stand tall" as an ultra liberal living in San Francisco… šŸ™‚

Anyway, I ran across this rant on Pro-Life she posted shortly after the latest presidential debate (which, by the way, put me to sleep about halfway through). I love reading stuff like this; hearing what others who think very differently than me feel about things. It intrigues me, and gets all the wheels and gears going in my mind as to why they believe that… I want to crawl inside their heads and see the world the way they see it…

There was a long time when I was pro-choice, or perhaps it might be better said, pro-limited-choice and/or pro-abortion in certain cases (like rape, incest, etc)… and for me, the lines around this issue are still blurry. I’m still stumbling around it, looking for God’s clear opinion on it…

And I have to admit, I have also questioned the validity of the language used surrounding this issue. I think most of us use inflammatory language far too much for anyone’s good… whether we actually mean to inflame or not. I think Christians are sometimes the guiltiest of all in this regard. We can be so incredibly insensitive to the culture around us and, in the end, we’ve shot ourselves badly in both feet too many times to count.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea. I believe fervently in the sanctity of human life. I believe the magic of life begins the moment of conception, and abortion for convenience’ sake is abhorrent. I think abortion is a tragedy of idolatry. We no longer sacrifice our newborns to idols, now we sacrifice our unborn to idols of ourselves. And I think that’s incredibly sad.

But I can also see very clearly that our — meaning the conservative and Christian communities — current method of dealing with, and ending, this tragedy isn’t working. As Dr. Phil says, "how’s that workin’ for ya…?" Well, sir, it ain’t.

Perhaps it’s time to try a new approach….

Before you read Deb’s journal entry, remember the signs posted at the beach when no life guard is present:

                                           Enter at your own risk. šŸ™‚

She’s a very cool woman, but also a self-proclaimed pagan. Her language may offend some; her topic and arguments may offend others. But this is the world we live in. Deb isn’t an anomaly, she’s the norm. I just wanted to bring a bit of that into my little corner of the Internet (or is that innernets… geez-louise Dubya, did your brain disengage from your mouth or something…????)

I loved Deb years ago. I love her now. I love everyone like her!  They bring spice and electricity into every relationship. And I want to find every way I can to bring God’s spicy, electric, magical unexplainable love to every one of them! I want to drench them, not in political rhetoric or inflammatory arguments, but drench them with Love.

What amazing people God creates! How can I help them see how Amazing HE is?

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Playing the Wrong Game

There comes a point when I just gotta let things go and see what happens. Lay down the cards and just play.

I tend to shuffle and reshuffle my cards, thinking “one more shuffle will do it…” But just like Lay’s potato chips, one just isn’t ever enough. So I shuffle again. And again. Eventually people get tired of waiting and start chiding, then yelling at me to lay my cards down.

So it goes with my life. I keep driving around town, from this apartment complex to that neighborhood… thinking, “one more shuffle will do it…” But I’m tired. And I’m not finding any better deals than the one that is before me. The more I think about it, the more appealing it is. If for no other reason than to stop the shuffle-hunt and settle down for a hand.. or two… or five…

Oh, I’ll still spend the weekend checking out the other options. I can’t just quit shuffling that quickly….

But I think my mind’s already made up.

Now it’s time to let Jamie loose in the space and watch in wonder as the Whirlwind creates beauty out of mediocrity. Amazing. God truly does reveal Himself through our creativity. And in Jamie-creator-designer I see Him so clearly. The joy He has in flinging stars into place, the excitement in planning and designing beautiful sunsets, the fun of stirring up storms. God is definitely a boy… I mean, come on. Loud noises, big flashes, dinosaurs… Hel-lo! All Boy.

I guess that also explains my life. God being, well, God. Creating, designing, stirring up storms and watching in all with wonder, joy and excitement only He could have, or understand.

I look at it from here and think, “One more shuffle… now, what ARE you doing??”, but He looks on it and thinks, “wait, just wait…. Here comes the good part. Here it is! Ooooo, isn’t that just sooo cool!!!” He doesn’t even yell at me to stop shuffling and lay down my cards. Just turns my head in the direction of His latest whirlwind of beauty.

I don’t think we’re playing the same game.

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Passion

You ever feel like there’s so much stuff in your head that it’s all just one big jumbled mess? Lordy, I need my mind defragged. Clean up all the partially deleted crap and consolidate everything in more orderly…. something…

Last night I had a great evening getting to know some new friends, Jason and Cully. God just keeps blessing me with new people in my path. These two are gems! Incredibly talented and passionate people. Jason’s working on a worship cd and a follow up project, both of which really stirred my soul. I don’t care if he never pays me, I’d work for him forever for free — if I could afford it — just to be a part of this upcoming project. I offered… we’ll see if he takes the bait. I sure hope so!

Since last night, so many thoughts have been zooming around my brain so fast that I can’t hardly catch up with them. Most of these revolve around the risk of freelancing for some of Jason’s friends in the music business (if they’ll have me) and working Starbuck’s-type jobs to fill in the financial gap versuses the stability of finding a regular, full time job. Do I live on the edge, or settle for boredom and security? And if I choose the edge, will God continue to provide?

Passion. Jason is following his. Leading worship is where he feels most alive. I feel the same about mixing for worship and being involved in coordinating worship events. Just like with coming here to Nashville, the more I think about what he’s doing, the more I want to be involved in it… somehow….

Life on the edge calls to me. But my fear has me temporarily frozen…. What if I fall? Will God catch me?

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Love Yourself…?

I checked out a church in Brentwood that’s only been around for a year. I was told the pastor used to be at Christ Church (a HUGE church here in Nashville) but left there to start this new community a few miles away.

It was interesting. There was a pretty good sized crowd, but not a really huge one. The music was good — though I only caught the last couple songs, ’cause of course I was late. — Hey, when you start something at 9:30am and it’ll take me about a half hour to get there, just count on it, I’ll be late. And early riser I’m not.

Anyway, the pastor was pretty good. He was casually dressed and sat on a stool most of the time. Those of you from Mosaic will recognize the format. šŸ™‚ I really liked his talked, until his last point. Then he lost me.

He was focusing on 2 Corinkthians 8, which is kinda funny to me, since I’ve been in 2 Corinthians during my alone times with Jesus the last couple of weeks. Paul was talking about giving the church at Corinth a chance to prove that their love is sincere by giving to the church in Jeruselem what they had promised to give a year prior. Stan, the pastor, talked about how God gives to us in abundance all that we need (see chapter nine for more on this) and that God Himself loves to lavish His creation with gifts. And that God longs for us to be like Him. Stan also talked about how our motive for giving to others who are in need should not be to be seen or known for our “generosity”; that our generosity proves out the sencerity of our love — for God and for others.

Okay, I’m with him so far. But then he took this radical left turn…. and lost me. He started in on how we can’t just go from loving God to loving and giving to others. He said there’s a vital step that many miss… and that’s learning to love ourselves. And by the time he was done he was focusing more about learning to accept the love of God and love ourselves the way He loves us, than he was on being generous with our lives and spending ourselves for the cause of Christ.

Now, I agree that part of becoming a generous person is recognizing how deeply and richly God loves us. Before we can spend ourselves for a cause, we need to know that our Source will not fail us, not run dry or just run out on us. But honestly, when people begin focusing on loving ourselves, it just creeps me out. Maybe it’s the phrase “love yourself”, or maybe it’s because I can find nothing in the Bible that says we need to learn how to do that. I see lots of places, however, where it seems to me to imply, infer, or even flat out state that we have no problem doing that. Jesus didn’t make a big deal of it when he said, “love others as you love yourself.” He just said it. “Love God. Love others — as you love yourself.”

So, does that me that we must love ourselves before we can love others? Or does that mean that we love others as we are loving ourselves. Kinda like you clean the kitchen as you do the dishes… or do you clean the kitchen first, then do the dishes…?

This is one that always gets me all messed up. Perhaps that’s why I just don’t dwell on it much. But in the conversations I had with people the last few weeks, it seems to be a theme in the lives of people here in Nashville. At least for some. And it’s a huge theme for this church I went to. In fact, their motto is: “Love God. Love Yourself. Love Others.” Hmmm….. that sounds rather backwords to me.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think we should never take care of ourselves or make sure our needs are met. I just don’t think NOT loving ourselves is really an issue in today’s world. We make sure we get a showever every day, right? Make sure we get food when our stomaches growls — even if it growls for quite some time, we still make sure we fed. And when someone steps on our “rights” or over our “boundaries” we’re usually pretty quick to tell them. You want proof? What was your reaction to the last person who cut you off on the freeway…? šŸ™‚

I often wonder, and sometimes am convinced, that people are just using the “I’m learning to love myself” or “I need to love/take care of myself first” card as an excuse for their stingyness and spiritual lethargy.

I really believe Jesus was saying that we should love others as we are loving ourselves…. not just like we love ourselves, but as we learn how to accept and believe His unbelievable, unfailing, unconditional and unending love for us. As we see that our Source will never fail us, never run dry, never run out on us, we will be too full of love to contain it.

I just don’t want to focus on loving myself. I want to focus on loving others with the unending resevoir of love Jesus drenches me in every day. If I’m psychologically unsound, so be it.

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Trafficking in Hope

Well, I think the phone call place might be a bust…. I just think I can get better for the same price. But the neighborhood was really cool…. a really wooded, residential kind of place.

What am I sayin… a really wooded place??? Good grief, I think Tennessee is made up of nothing BUT trees. I think you’d be hard pressed in this city to find even 50 yards without a tree! If the northwest ever feels like it’s going bald, they can just come here and grab a few trees from Nashville. I don’t think anyone would even notice their missing.

I did find a couple of other potential places, and I think I made a potential new friend at one of the places I went. We talked a lot about moving from place to place and how we ended up in Nashville — she came from Denver by way of Miami…. so I guess my story didn’t sound so weird to her as it does to others. šŸ™‚

I did put down a deposit and app fee on one place. But I’m not completely sure its the right choice. It’s $50/mo more than the highest I’d planned to spend. Hmm…. just don’t know what to do. Don’t you just wish sometimes God would send you His answers/ideas/… heck I’d settle for a, “that sounds okay” message — via FedEx? Man, I do. Especially right now.

Oh, yeah, about the title of this post. I named this blog “A Voice of Hope” because, well, that’s been the theme of my life for the past couple of years. Have you ever found themes running through your life/relationship with Jesus? You know, where everything you learn and experience can all be traced back to these themes?

For me, one of the major themes over the last few years has been hope. Now, I’m not talking about that fluffy, ethyrial “out there” thing the church has bottled and convinced us is hope. I’m talking about God-hope. The gritty, messy, aching, longing stuff. The hope a pregnant mom feels in the 9th month, when her back is killing her, her ankles are swollen and she’s tired of not being able to see her feet, but excited to see her new baby. The hope a child feels when Christmas is just close enough to touch and taste, but still far enough away that it feels like YEARS before she’ll get to open the presents. That’s God-hope. Its the stuff that both fills you with excited anticipation and an overwhelming ache, joy that “it’s” coming and sorrow that “it” is not yet here.

I love God-hope. It drives me crazy. It drives me to tears. It drives me to my knees, in pain and in worship.

It’s what I live with every single day. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Following Jesus is a most amazing adventure. But you have to be willing to pay a price in sweat and tears, and get paid a daily wage in God-hope.

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5th Gear or Park

My friend Jamie, as he says, lives life in either 5th gear or park. He’s either all the way in, or all the way out; going full throttle, or at a dead standstill.

That kinda describes me right now too. Except that I can go from 5th gear to park in 3 seconds flat.

For example, yesterday I was in 5th gear. Going full throttle, from apartment complex to apartment complex looking for a place to live and meeting new people along the way. Then had dinner with new friends (thanks, Spence, for the connection! Shayne and Michelle are waayyy cool!!), and went home to study the apartment guides and my map some more (oh, yeah, and see the Dodger whup the Braves. Go Dodger Blue!). I only turned the lights out and surrendered to sleep when the apartment guide smacked me in the face ’cause I’d fallen asleep reading it.

Today, I’m in park. And I can’t think of a single way to get out of it. I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I got up late…. well, late for Casa de Ferguson – this family is a crazy group of early risers! Me, I’d rather stay in bed till 11am, maybe even noon, and then stay up till the sun rises again… ah, the pull of the Bohemian life is strong, and my heart and will are weak….

At any rate, here I sit, still up in Hendersonville, when I should be down near Brentwood or Bellevue scouting affordable housing. How does one kick one’s self in the a–… um… butt… to get it in gear? Especially when one’s legs aren’t all that long to begin with. And, while I’m still quite flexible, I’m not nearly as much so as I was in high school, when I worked out with the gymnastics team.

Well, now…. I guess God decided to kick me in the butt for me. I just got a call from someone who’s got a duplex I wanted to look at yesterday. Funny how He works these things out… yeah, it could just be coincidence that my phone rang just as I was writing about bein’ in park…. but there’s just no fun in thinking about it that way, is there.

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The Beginning… Sort Of

The first post of the first blog of the new adventure.

I’m sitting at Panera’s, finishing up my Chai and watching the rain pour down. It looks like God just took a full bucket and dumped on top of Nashville. Could life get more perfect?

Well, yeah, actually it could. šŸ™‚ I could have a job, that would make it more perfect. And a place to live, that would even be better…. odd how I think a place to live is better than a job, isn’t it. Guess this unemployment-just-hangin’-with-my-friends stuff is really growing on me. Ah, but alas, money makes the world go ’round… at least so think the bill collectors. So a job I must get. And soon!

John’s parents are being very gracious and allowing me to take up space in their home. But I don’t want to overstay my welcome. And I’d really like to stop living out of my suitcase and car. It’d be so nice to actually spread out my stuff and be able to leave it where it is instead of packing it back up each time I use it. Besides, I haven’t seen all my own belongings in over a year. When I finally do get to unpack it all it will feel like Christmas!

However, rent here is more than I was lead to believe. Soooo, I really need a roommate. Or a miracle. I’ll take either one.

Jobs seem to be scarce too. No one but coffee houses and retailers are hiring, and even their positions are limited. Hmmm….

Two Miracles to go, please!

On a more positive note, all this free time is giving me more time to spend with God. Most of that is still spent in pleading for His intervention for a job or apartment, or for His comfort as my heart continues to ache from the gaping hole mom and dad’s deaths have left.

However, more and more I crave to hear from Him; hear His voice calling up through His Word, or suddenly grabbing my attention with a new nugget of Truth from an often-read passage. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Digging into the Word has been a painful and fearful experience for me this past year. I don’t really know why. It’s not that I was running from God. Quite the opposite, I’ve run to Him — into His arms — and hid there most of the year. I guess it’s like when you’re sick. You don’t want to eat, you just want comfort.

Now that I’m feeling somewhat better, I’m realizing how famished I am. And I’m ready to eat. Ready for a feast. Bring it on, Jesus!