philosophy out of context

Top Ten (in no particular order) Quotes:
You’ve got to mention diarrhea if you want to get an A on this.

Maybe some bear in the San juan islands has an ape iron t-shirt they wear these days.

I stink therefore I am.

We know that the CIA is making doubles of us all the time.

I realized I was an I when I pooped in my pants.

Santa Clause can fly. And Santa Clause leaves me presents. That’s why I leave him cookies.

This is good for your life as a postmodern pastoral hipster.

It's on your TV, so you have to learn it.

I don’t like the fact that you’re from New Jersey. I hate all people from New Jersey. I’m going to flunk you because you are from New Jersey

Once you get beyond pooh-pooh pants, that’s really about as infinite as you can get.

Other context-less voices:
The women in your neighborhood will set their clocks by when you take a dump. – Phil
Maybe feces is the essence of being. – Steve
Because I have nipples I exist. – John
Show us your nipples so that we know you are real. - John
Does prolegomena mean masturbation? Does anyone know? - Zadok

Why I Don't Dance...

"why can't i dance?" after downing 3 beers - the taste of which i could not handle, so i was plugging my nose and making an absolutely disgusted, almost cartoonish face after each giant gulp, i assumed that finally, i could bring myself to dance amidst a crowd of people where i knew no one and wanted to impress everyone around me. still, beer was not enough. i tried. i tried so hard. i stood in the crowd. i finally, per the coaxing of a friend who was probably embarassed to be the one who invited me, i got my feet to move ever so slightly. then began the conversation with my arms:
Me: Arms, do something.
Arms: What do you want us to do?
Me: I don't know. Dance?
Arms: How?
Me: I don't know. I don't really dance. At least MOVE!
Arms: But we don't know what to do.
Me: JUST MOVE ALREADY!
Arms: No. We'll look stupid.
Me: You already do and now you're making me look stupid.
Arms: Well, we don't know what to do.
Me: (to my friend who I was supposedly dancing with) Well, I have to go to church in the morning so, bye.

I couldn't leave yet because of the beer, so I walked around outside inwardly shouting at myself for not being able to dance.

So, the new question is similar, "Why can't I dance...relationally?"

A friend had hurt me by not seeing my odd depression in the re-birth of my freedom now that I am post-youth ministry position. I knew that I needed to talk to her. I knew she didn't mean to hurt me. So, I sat at the top of the stairs of my house and had a conversation with my legs:
Me: Stand-up and go downstairs so that I can talk to her.
Legs: Well, what are you going to say?
Me: I don't know yet. I'll figure it out when I get there.
Legs: You know you're going to hurt her if you say what you're feeling. You know she's already hurting. So, you should at least know exactly what you're going to say.
Me: Ok, maybe I'll say (insert onfidential imagined conversation)
Legs: Ouch. That's going to hurt both of you.
Me: Well, it needs to be said though and it seems kind.
Legs: Sure, it's kind, but I'm not taking you there to say it. It's dangerous. What if she doesn't recieve it well?
Me: JUST MOVE!
Legs: But...
Me: SHUT UP AND FUCKING MOVE! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM! WHAT IS MY PROBLEM! WHY CAN'T I JUST FUCKING DO THIS!?!

Then I cried.

The next day, everything exploded - and it ended up being soooo beautiful. But, one thing my friend said to me is that she didn't see my pain - meaning that I didn't make it seen. I told her (actually shouted at her) "I tried. I tried really hard. I'm sorry that I coudln't do better. It was t he best I could do!"

She was beyond amazing in that, but it leads to the question:

Why can't we dance?

Why can't I more explicitly invite those that love me into my pain? Why can't people around me see my pain? Why won't they? Why can't I tell people when I am let down by them? Why is trying to be seen so trying? Why is not being seen so painful? Why do I then recoil?

Why can't I dance!?!

The next day, in a conversation about community, a friend wanted to know how we will deal with disappointing each other and I said, "By further disappointing each other."

As much as I wanted to dance that night, I couldn't bring myself to.
As much as I want to deal well with my pain and with my friend, I couldn't bring myself to.
As much as I want to hope for things to change, they may not.
But it's not that I don't dance. By being in a relationship, it doesn't matter if I sit at the top of the stairs and silently yell at my inactivity. By having a relationship with someone, even in absense, I am dancing - clumsily as it may be.
The tragedy is not the proverbial stepping on feet. The tragedy is not standing on the dance floor and having your arms refuse to move. The tragedy would be leaving the dance floor.

Ultimately, the tradegy does not come in disappointing another. Glory comes there. Glory is present even in a clumsy dance of broken hearts and disappointment. Tragedy comes in isolation. Praise God that isolation is never possible in a world filled with God's relational image bearers and with God's very Spirit.

So life is dance lessons and maybe one day, I'll start dancing without making a fool of myself and my friends. In the mean time, I want to be like that old gay guy in four weddings and a funeral. He looked like an idiot. I laughed soooo hard at him. He died dancing and, his dancing was sooo bad that I originally thought his death was an extreme dance move.

I will fail and be a fool...but I can, and do, and cannot not dance.

happy birthday mom

my mom's birthday and father's day come one after the other.

every year it is an opportunity to be a let down, to see myself as daughter and feel a failure there. each year it is a chance to center my being around their joy and feel as though there is something meaningless in me because they do not feel joy. every year, i try buy fail miserably.

this year, i thought i would feel better about it. if mars hill teaches you one thing, it is that your mom hates you and your dad abuses you in some way. armed with this knowledge, i assumed things would be different.

today, on my mom's birthday, i have failed her and am tempted to say i am, therefore, a failure. this is the subjective i to her thou. on the anniverssary of the following poem, i am reminded of the important truth that i am not, in my essence, subjective to thou - or if i am, i am truly and ultimately only subjective to God's Thou.


now, a poem i orignally posted a year ago today:

A Winding World of Seeming Subjectivity

You pound down the stairs, eyes glued to the floor
You enter my soft silent morning with penniless words
I am a cold, quick daughter running for the door
Not quick enough
You peer over my shoulder with unwanted unedited commentary
Your gaze is a bullet aimed past the plank to my busy speck
I am a hurting, lost daughter running for a door I thought was opened but know is closed

You are a mist in the air an accidental memory
You enter my young hopeful morning with a theiving recollection
I am a resiliant, lonely three year old behind a baracaded door
Not strong enough
You peer past my humanity with unloving, unsavory contact
Your affect is a lingering, often forgotten bullet imbedded for 20 years
I am an angry, protective older sister of a girl too long lost behind a door blocked with hatred

You raise your gaze to meet mine, eyes begin to well
You enter my red shouting morning with penniless hope
I am a kind, trying daughter standing in the door
Too quick
You peer past my wishfulness with unsatisfying unsatisfied brokenness
Your gaze is a bullet aimed away but penetrating an already bleeding heart
I am a disappointing, hard working daughter standing in a door that swings too slowly shut

You invite me to your bank terminal
You enter my rushed important morning with pennies
I am a nice, smiling no-one running round a revolving door

Your voice reaches my ear through airwaves, ear glued to the phone
You enter my winding hopeful morning with willingness
I am a weary, immature approximation of a boss fainting through a door way and on to the floor

You rush your fingers across keys and tap a button
You are absent in my lost over-used morning with penniless un-expectation
I am a caffeinated, disappointed approximation of a friend standing miles from a doorway

You look past me answering phone call upon phone call
You enter my filled unfulfilled morning with absent stare
I am a worn, un-encountered unknown stepping in and out of a heavy door

The morning ends as I am careless and heavy
I run you over
Your insides come out
Your tiny feathers and now crushed legs and beak
Break
My
Heart
And draw my tears
I feel sick and want the morning back
or erased

either will do

There is evening and there is morning
A new day beacons on the horizon
You’ve entered each morning though I gaze past you into abyss
I am an ever-blessed beloved
I am a forgiven, for giving daughter
I am a protected, beloved child
I am a valued, created someone
I am a faith-given, faith filling servant
I am a sought after, intimate friend
I am a rejuvenated, known continual encounter
Never truly subjective – simply seeming so
Or maybe subjective only to your great light-filled presence

recipe for a perfect day

1 ladro's triple tall soy medici

2 friends joining you in the commute to school

1 friend who likes driving so you don't have to

2 u2 albums on the way to class

1 lunch break with your best friend and favorite neighbor

2 kids that smile when you come near

1 3.5 year old child who, suddenly, wants to be right next to you all the time

1 amazing opportunity to bother said child's mother by encouraging him to stick not one, but two fingers up his nose

1 old testament class getting out early

1 ride to safeco stadium with an extravagently kind and blessing friend

3 or 4 missed turns due to rapturing conversation which causes inattentiveness to the road

a dash of not caring that you've missed turns and may visit tacoma before arriving at safeco

2 small meals at fx mc rory's

a heaping teaspoon of patience and relational priority from a sports-enthused companion as you wait at will call and miss ichiro's first at bat, first batter, first pitch homer

1 barry bonds homer

5 m's runs

1 half hour in line to get two bottled alcoholic drinks

1 shiskaberry

1 lap around safeco whilest looking for the team store

three strikes for berry bonds to end the game

1.5 cups of ben and jerry

1 m's t-shirt down from $35 to $7

and garnish with amazing conversation until way after you should have been in bed

serve chilled with child-like joy and a life-time of mariners memories

serves 2

hosea + gomer = undying love?

all the time
you were burning my letters
you were only acting the part
you think without me
you'll get on much better
but you dont even
know your own heart

come home, darling
come home quickly
come home, darling
all is forgiven,

but your still playing
for a love you'll never find
outside of these arms of mine

the whole town
is one step behind you
with the hang man on call
they've got the judge
and you're convicted without a plea
darling, they will listen to me

-pedro the lion

i have come with one purpose
to capture for myself a bride
by my life she is lovely
by my death she's justified
i have always been her husband
though many lovers she has known
so with water i will wash her
and by my word alone
-the church by derek webb

money cannot buy
a husband’s jealous eye
when you have knowingly deceived his wife
-wedding dress by derek webb

in the wake of being murdered by the church, may we, as God, direct our eyes to that which knowingly decieves her and our undying love to the church - harlot though she may be.

and as we do that for the church, who we are ourselves, can we love the harlot in ourselves, as God does, with undying love - harlots though we truly are?

can we see beyond the erosion of hers and our beautiful face to see the beloved? and will we fight for that beauty?

leaving lake city

today i leave my charge
today i am greeted
by failure and freedom locked incestually together
by soul-shaking solitude and the hope of communal afershock perichoretically joined
do i join the dance
am i lost in that dance

like a 3/4 time waltz of nausiating hope and disappointment
can i step into this swirling world

once i took waltz lessons
for the wedding of a friend
her father-in-law scared me
i wore a new dress and comfortable shoes
one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three and on
on your toes then back to the ground
smoothly turn without looking down
you circle and circle and how long can it last
one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three
the beat picks up pace
onetwothree, onetwothree,onetwothree
nausia increases and perichoresis gives way to dreams of flight
nausiagrowsmonserousandperichoresisdisappearsinthequakeoftremblingfear
onetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothree
stop

zach morris walks in and freezes frame long enough to ask the question
do i want off the swirling merry-go-round?
do i want out of the dance?
in this moment, i see a vision of a burnt-out and meaningless life of chores
waiting and watching dancing with the stars on syndicated television from a lazy boy
the distant pulse continues without me
onetwothreeonetwothreeonetwothree
stop

let me on

today, i do not leave my charge
today i am greeted
by failure and faith locked incestually together
by soul-shaking solitude and the hope of communal afershock perichoretically joined
i join the dance
and there i
am lost

parting words

this is the sermon i preached yesterday - my last sunday at my church:

Luke 17:20-21
Once, having been asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, "The kingdom of God does not come with your careful observation, 21nor will people say, 'Here it is,' or 'There it is,' because the kingdom of God is within you."

Commercials are pretty annoying – though creative. But, their entire point is to get you to want something you didn’t want before. Somehow, a 30 second commercial makes you thirst for something you didn’t even know existed before.

Have you watched many pharmaceutical commercials? They are the worst. They aggravate me. You see the perfect family with the perfect house playing in a perfect yard with perfect children on a perfect day. Then, watching television either by yourself or with your family, you look around your small apartment or cluttered house; you see the grey sky and eternal rain outside the window. If you’re a parent, your kids aren’t giggling, they are crying or fighting and your spouse is passed out on the couch. If you aren’t a parent or if you are a parent whose nest is empty, the laughter of the children in the commercial is haunting. There’s this sense of longing that is awakened in you. You think, “I want this drug.”

At the end of the commercial, they tell you the name of the drug but not what it’s for. You find yourself fighting the impulse to rush to the phone and call your doctor for a prescription. The drug might turn out to be for the arthritis you don’t have or for insomnia when you actually suffer from narcolepsy, but you have to have the drug.

Somehow, without even knowing what the drug does, we get a glimpse of the life it’s supposed to give us and we cannot live without it.

Still, this commercial doesn’t exactly hit home for me. My dream commercial starts here at LCPC. Close your eyes and imagine it. The new fellowship hall is filled with smiling people of divergent ages, ethnicities, and socio-economic statuses. They are eating together and praising God. Then the commercial pans to the adult education room where a session meeting ends in under an hour and there are tears of joy and love in each elder’s eyes as they embrace and go out to proclaim God’s love to the congregation. Did I mention this took less than an hour!?! If you’ve been an elder, you know what I’m talking about.

The commercial then pans to the greater Lake City area. The homeless people that congregate by 125th street would still congregate, but for a feast. They’d be laughing and in their right minds. They’d be joined by the richest citizens of Lake City, by the youngest and oldest, by every ethnicity and every age group.

Eventually, the commercial, shattering records for the longest commercial ever, shows sweat shops closing, AIDS orphans being held, droughts ending, AIDS being cured in Africa, governmental corruption ending and capitalistic demands being replaced with two commandments, love God and love others. War ends. Soldiers put down their weapons and run across enemy lines to embrace their once enemies. Murder ends. Suffering ends. The whole world is consumed with love. We are all made one.

Finally, the commercial ends by returning to a smaller level, showing homes in every nation with mothers and fathers together and in-love, children cared for and adored as beautiful gifts from heaven, neighbors welcomed as though they were family.

Then, in a short breath, the commercial shows a bottle of pills with some long but catchy title like chlorahappymediloveinol and has some sort of cheesy phrase like “because we all like to be happy and we all have trouble loving.” Then quickly a voice says, “Consult your doctor before consuming Chlorahappymedaloveinol. Side effects include but are not limited to patience, kindness, lack of envy, pride, and rudeness, disinterest in usual sinful activities such as self-seeking, recording wrongs, and delighting in evil. May also cause rejoicing in truth, trusting, hoping, perseverance and even faith. The greatest side effect is a high propensity to love God with all of your heart, soul, mind, and strength and to love your neighbor as yourself. Warning: Chlorahappymedaloveinol is for everyone and its effects are highly contagious.

Do you want to buy this drug? How much are you willing to pay for it?
What if I promised you that it actually works? How much would it be worth to you?

One of the events I was blessed to go to with the youth this year was an AIDS walk with World Vision. They simulated the real lives of five children in Africa. One of them was named Timothy. The first time I went, I was Timothy. I remember taking my first step into his story and being overwhelmed by the beauty of his smile. I wanted to freeze time and just stare at his smile until I was lost in it. I peaked around the corner, though, and saw a gravestone. I knew the next step involved death and longed to just cling to the moment, but the recorded story moved me along. Timothy’s father died of AIDS. Later, his mother died of AIDS. Finally, Timothy finds out that he has AIDS. He got it from, at age 6, working in the fields until his hands were cracked then, with those cracked hands, caring for his HIV-positive mother’s wounds. I wanted to scream and cry and I did, later, weep over this true story.

If a pharmaceutical commercial promised me that Timothy would have a family and that he wouldn’t die of AIDS, I would sell everything I own to buy that drug. I would scour behind every couch cushion in my house for change. Actually, I’d scour behind the couch cushions of my neighbors and of my friends and I might just sneak into some other houses. I’d take out every penny of loan money I could and apply for endless credit cards to buy that drug.

So, going back to my question, how much would you give? Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of God is like that prescription drug. He tells us about a man who finds a pearl and sells everything he owns to buy it. This, Jesus says, is the Kingdom of God.

Jesus tells us that this kingdom belongs to the poor in spirit and to the meek. He tells us that if we seek this kingdom first, everything else we could possibly need will be given to us. In this kingdom, there is no need to worry – ever. It’s like a high class, extravagant banquet that everyone is invited to. The kingdom is about forgiveness. In the kingdom, we are born a new – into a new life, where righteousness shines like the sun and children playfully lead. The kingdom comes with power and will never end. In the kingdom, disease is healed and children are greeted as though they were Christ himself. There, the least are the greatest. In the Kingdom, we will truly know God – like a son or daughter knows her father, like a wife knows her husband. In the kingdom, life is eternal.

So, how much do you want this kingdom?

Now that you are longing for the kingdom, here’s the good news and bad news: the kingdom of God is in you.

It’s obvious how this is good news, but I’m sure you are wondering how this is bad news.

Scripture tells us that the kingdom does not come with careful observation – or rule following. The kingdom does not come in policies or a book of order. The kingdom does not come in liturgy or tradition. It does not come in spell-checking a bulletin. The kingdom will not become brighter or more present if kids sit quietly in pews for a worship service. It does not flourish because events go well. It will not shine more brilliantly or dimly if youth day goes off without a hitch.

None of these things are bad. These things have their place in the kingdom. But, in so much as we are pre-occupied with them, we miss Jesus’ message and become Pharisees.

Jesus says, further, that no one can say the kingdom is here or the kingdom is there. The kingdom is not in the new fellowship hall or it’s beautiful kitchen. I was driving to Federal Way with my roommate once and we passed World Vision. I told him the World Vision is the capitol of the kingdom. He corrected me: the capitol of the kingdom is the hearts of the children World Vision serves.

We have put so much energy into our remodel. It has paid off. It is beautiful and will, no doubt, hold many holy moments – but it’s not the kingdom. In fact, it won’t even house the kingdom unless our hearts do. In field of dreams, the voice says, “If you build it, they will come.” This is not true for the kingdom. In the kingdom, we say, “If you love, they will come.” We can make all the beautiful architectural space in the world – but unless we make beautiful space in our hearts, our physical space will be spiritually empty.

This is the bad news. But, it’s not all that bad because Jesus goes on to say that the Kingdom of God that does not come with rules and that is not here or there is in you. It is in each of us, and more importantly, it is in us as we come together as the body of Christ.

So, where is the Kingdom of God – it is in each person in this room. It is in our conversations – in the space that exists between us. More aptly for today, it is in the youth at LCPC.

Do you remember the construction process? Do you remember how every step was exciting? Do you remember peering through windows to see every new advance? Do you remember your first step into the nursery? I remember a youth spilling soda pop in there and getting lectured on how this beautiful space should be preserved. Do you remember the first time you stepped into the new fellowship hall? Do you remember the awe that struck you the first time you saw the kitchen?

Can you imagine having that same dedication to every person in this room and to the community we can have if we become one? Can you imagine having this same dedication to our youth specifically? Can you imagine being as protective of them as of the new carpet in the nursery? Can you imagine that the slightest stain on the wounded hearts of our youth threw you into panic and sent you flying to the store to buy a professional carpet cleaning syrum? Can you imagine looking into each face in this room and seeing God’s beautiful architecture in their eyes with the same awe you held for the marble counter tops in the new kitchen? Can you imagine looking at each of these youth so that your breath is literally stolen away at their beauty? I can. I have had my breath stolen by them. As my time here ends, I have to thank you all for inviting me into their lives. The blessing of knowing them has been and will continue to be a treasure – a pearl – that I would sell everything to own – it has been the kingdom of God.

So, that commercial for that medicine that you would sell everything for? That commercial is the person sitting next to you. Today, especially, it is the youth you have been introduced to. Please, as we go out to celebrate the youth, track them down and listen to the melody of the kingdom in their voices. See the art of God in their eyes. Hear God’s mercy in their laughter. Please know that the Kingdom is in you.

Before we conclude, I’m going to ask you to do something that will probably be very uncomfortable, but sooooo holy. Turn and look at someone sitting next to you -preferably someone you don’t know too well. Look into their eyes and study their faces. Know that they are created in the image of God. We’ll do this in silence for 120 seconds. Fight the uncomfortability and pray for God’s presence.

Prayer:
Lord God, King – Great King, your kingdom has been given to us. As you say, it is in us. Lord, as we pray, your kingdom come, make us believe it. Make us seek it. Make us see it in each other. King Jesus, take our lives and make them your kingdom.

Amen


Blessing:
A portion of a poem by my brother, Jake Tucker

It's a shift in focus

From changing to waiting

Christ taught us to pray

"Thy Kingdom come"

Instead of bringing it

I wait for it to come

In lethargy I have great patience

Heaven is supposed to come down

Descend to earth

Heaven is not someplace far away

Someplace to go when we die

Heaven is near,

it is knocking

It is availible

NOW

It will start to come in me

Heaven will come

When I see people as what they are

Art

Created in the image of God

Each made with divinity dripping from every pour

Each the pinnacle of creation

Each made with more care

detail, attention,

and love

Than I can fathom

Each one the Creator took a step back from

To get a better look

Decided

With tears welling up

from the bottom of him

That it was good

it was very good

Heaven will come when every tear is dried from tired eyes

When every head is lifted

When pain and mourning cease

When hope dawns

When love finally conquers

once and for all

So, lord haste the day

when my faith shall be sight

the clouds be rolled back as a scoll

the trump shall resound

The lord descend

and Dancers will dance upon injustice

As you leave, as the art of the Father, re-created in the Son, and re-creating through the Spirit, today, you do not go. You do not leave. The Kingdom is in you. May you see and embrace God’s art. May you sell everything for the Kingdom.

someday?

I once knew a girl
In the years of my youth
With eyes like the summer
All beauty and truth
In the morning I fled
Left a note and it read
Someday you will be loved.

I cannot pretend that I felt any regret
Cause each broken heart will eventually mend
As the blood runs red down the needle and thread
Someday you will be loved

You'll be loved you'll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved

You may feel alone when you're falling asleep
And everytime tears roll down your cheeks
But I know your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet
Someday you will be loved

You'll be loved you'll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved

-death cab for cutie

but when our parents, friends, dates, and even our dreams have not loved us
try though they have
if even we have not loved ourselves
when i have never tasted love apart from the God i push away and never really see
how am i supposed to believe i will be loved?
how dare i tell others they will be loved?

and even if we someday see God
even if i cease to run from God's loving gaze
even if God's embrace became as real as the quickly passing sunset
would my cynicism change?

on this earth, we are meant to long for love
we are meant to long for the other
and even if the other tries to love me
will he?
will he meet wild success?
can i dare to dream there's even something worth loving?

someday will i be loved?
will these loveless days and tear-filled nights seem like bad dreams?

i don't know.
the song is pretty.
i want it to be true.
but is it?

check out my house's blog.

to benny with love and thanks: as promised, more on pat robertson and his supposed tsunami

at first, when i heard about pat robertson's prophecy, i was angry. i was fumingly, bitterly angry.
in time, i asked myself what was behind that anger. the answer: fear.
what if he's right?
what if God is going to punish us?
what if everything that's new and refreshing about my faith is actually heresy, as i've been told?
mars hill is moving to the pier. maybe seattle wouldn't get sacked by a tsunami, but the pier? what if God is not moving here, but judging here?

irrational fears. faithless fears. i found footing in those three words tattooed on my shoulder blade: faith, hope, love. ok.

then, i read this.



benny is an amazing artist. he is someone who knows something about life and encounter. he is a philosopher and a blessing to fremont. now, this supposed progressive and hippy area has kicked him out - citing "safety" more accurately, annoyance.

faith, hope, and love.

where are these?
who are we?
is seattle really who i dream her to be?
are we burnt out sell outs who like to buy expensive organic food and pretend we care about the world and about art?

so, will a tsunami destroy us?
if it does, is it deserved?
are we a fat and happy people who have learned to treat other people not as people?

if a tsunami destroys seattle, it will not be God's punative work. that much i know.

however, if i were God and if i could put aside my rose-stained glasses through which i stand at kerry park and pristinely, though not closely, examine my city - if i could see her as she is, as this event reveals she is, i think i might just send a tsunami.

good thing neither pat robertson nor i are God.

may God give us grace for our mistreatment of God's brilliant work of art:
benny the rock guy.

holy transference batman!

finally, we had our break. after an hour and a half lecture on covenental theology, which dr. neihaus had already pounded into my head years ago, i got a break. i went to the office to attempt to find out about why my scholarship has not gone through yet (a month into the semester). Molly (the secretary) said, matter of factly, when you have a minute, i need to talk with you. hmm...felt a bit like that fateful day at gcts. i thought calm thoughts and lowered my blood pressure with ignorance.

as i walked back to chat with her, she said, just wait there. we'll talk in dan's (the school's president's) office. ok. now it was unavoidable. i felt all the intensity of that day at gcts when i was accused of many ridiculous things and treated with disdain and eyes unwilling to truly see me. i was scared to death. i began to prepare my heart for some great slap across the face anxoisly asked, "is something wrong?" she said no, but , in honesty, i didn't believer her.

i sat down.
she sat down.
i was filled with fear.

i heard her say, "i'm concerned...i talked with paul (the chaplain)..we want to."
in my transference, all i could pick up was those words. so i filled them with what is familiar: i am concerned about your conduct as a student of our school. i talked with paul about what course of action is wise. we want to ask you to either leave the school or seek counseling regarding your conduct."

i began to fall apart before my mind stopped me and revealed the rest of Molly's words: I'm concerned about your ankle. I talked with Paul about it, and we want to make sure that you get to a doctor, so we are willing to pay for a doctor's visit up to $100-200."

i simply don't know what to do with this brilliant disappointment of my expectations.

wounded (healer)

last night, i really thought i was all that. mike and i moved a chest that my dad and brother could not move. i thought, "maybe i'm not weak." so then, we were moving things into the new house. i was sooo going to show everyone how strong i was.

then, carrying my roommate's desk, i fell off of the back of mike's truck and badly twisted my ankle. it was sprained. i sat and cussed and lamented for a while. what was about to ensue:

mike would carry me into the house
i wouldn't be able to walk
someone would bring me ice
i would be absoluetely dependant
and, the worst of all, i would not be able to wear cool shoes for possibly a month

apart from the last one, the things i was lamenting were all about people caring for me. so, i decided that there was not much i could do, so i let go and let it all happen. even amidst the pain, i was happy - enjoying the care of those i often work to care for and refuse care from.

there was one moment, when the pain was so much that, though emily was trying to distract me with her amazing sense of humor, i could not hear a word she was saying. i could not see her past my pain. this reminded me of a friend who usually sees and cares well for others. lately, she has not done this. she is in pain. her pain is so much that she cannot often see well.

as i thought of her, i began to wonder about the wounded healer. healers will always be wounded, but are there times when the wounded cannot be healers, when there is grace for their aching eyes that cannot see, when i can speak to my friend, "it is okay that you do not see past your pain. you will come through it. in this moment, it is all you can see. please rest in that. rest, my wounded friend and past and future healer."