One year

One year ago from today, I was moving into my new apartment in Minnesota. I had emptied the contents of my beetle and discovered that all of the belongings I brought with me from California fit into my closet (which was good, because my room wasn't much larger than that anyway).

After almost a year of battling the most difficult case of culture shock I've ever had (and I've made some big moves in my life) I came to terms with my new surroundings when some good friends of mine came to visit this summer. The words that solidified my home here in Minnesota (how ever long or short that may be) came from a group of church planters that said, to no one in particular, but to everyone there, "You are sent exactly where you are." That week my car had broken down, my attentions between ministries were split, but by the end of it all I was sent to exactly where I stood.

Up until this evening, I had forgotten that today was my one year anniversary in Minnesota. In fact I spent most of the day bemoaning Twin City drivers, and bad Christian radio stations (is there a good one?). I found myself in a deeply cynical place, that I didn't fully realize myself to be in until I started criticizing a regional church community effort that I was excited about two days ago. Thankfully I have started to build deep relationships with people who can call me out on my cynicism when it gets too heavy, or let me air out my frustrations knowing that I'm not fully committed to what I'm saying until I've heard more than two points of view. So when it suddenly dawned on me this evening, just before youth group, that I've lived here for exactly one year I was able to count it as growth no matter how dark some days (or months) have been, because I found myself surrounded by people who are starting to know me well enough to not let me take life so seriously.

One year ago I was sent to exactly where I am. Though being sent meant leaving, it also meant coming. Coming home to a new community that I am learning to love as they learn to love me. Coming to a new understanding of belonging that transcends any one particular group of people. Coming to a place that offers growth in new ways that I may have never allowed myself to grow.

Tomorrow I will sit outside in my new apartment with a good cup of coffee, my Bible and a journal and start a new year of living in the present with the knowledge of the past in mind and hope for the future at heart.

a focus of longing and the image of fulfillment

In search of some information on the National Endowment of the Arts, I ran across this quote:

"The orgasm has replaced the cross as the focus of longing and the image of fulfillment." -Malcolm Muggeridge

Clearly, this quote had no relevance to my search, but it caught my eye non the less. I know very little about Malcolm Muggeridge, other than knowing his profession as a journalist and writer in the 20th century, and his late conversion to Catholicism. I also acquired the book "Instrument to Thy Peace" by Alan Paton to which Muggeridge wrote a forward to, however, back to the quote:

"The orgasm has replaced the cross as the focus of longing and the image of fulfillment."

Is it just me or does reading that make force you to do a mental check of where orgasms fall into your list of longings and fulfillment. Ok, maybe not orgasms per say, but replace that word with any particular misplaced focus sitting between you and God, and you've got yourself a potential idol. The funny thing with idols, that I'm discovering, is the stuff they are made of is generally not inherently evil. Often they take form in something seemingly good and healthy, like sex, or marriage, or pleasing people, or getting good grades. I've also noticed that idols do not emerge fully formed, rather they grow slowly and sometimes unintentionally encouraged by good people. The hardest part with idols made of seemingly good things, is figuring out how to extract idol from the goodness... but I think I'll leave that topic for a different day, and get back to discussing the idol of the aforementioned quote.

I've spent some time in correspondence with a peer that is considering the priesthood. All theological differences aside, I am impressed by his choice to pursue such a specific calling that requires a significant amount of self sacrifice. Unlike his protestant counterparts, he will be taking a vow of celibacy as part of his commitment to his chosen vocation.

To most 20 somethings, I'm sure, the idea of celibacy is not a "calling" most of us seek. In fact, it has been my experience, and observation that the Protestant Church as a whole, tends to veer away from the idea of life long celibacy as a potential life choice, and keep with the abstinence party line. Just wait until marriage to have sex (which the Catholic Church is equally agreeable with... unless you've taken vows of celibacy). Unfortunately, I've seen that party line, "Just wait until marriage," backfire into something akin to Muggeridge's quote. Instead of the all mighty orgasm, the focus of longing and image of fulfillment, in many christian circles, has become the shrine of marriage... Marriage, " has replaced the cross as the focus of longing and the image of fulfillment." Marriage is what many (but not all) young Christian women are taught to revere and strive for. Young Christian men are socialized similarly. By college age, it appears that those who haven't given into the social norms around them, have internalized marriage as a step in life that must happen and if it doesn't they will never be complete. They will never feel fulfilled.

Please don't misread me though, by no means am I making a blanket statement that all who desire to be married one day (and hopefully enjoy a vibrant sex life too) are making these things an idol. I'm just struck by the amount of my peers seeking to be married more out of fear of not leading a vibrant fulfilling life outside of marriage or having sex. Like most things good - sex (and orgasms), marriage, intimacy, etc... - there is the danger of it replacing our primary focus of longing and image of fulfillment. Perhaps it is in the end of St. Francis of Assisi's Prayer of Peace that we can find direction in how to rightly order our longings and recognize the idols that have replaced the cross.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

He's going to be ok, right?

This week, a teen that grew up at the church I work at went into cardiac arrest while playing disc golf with his friends. His heart stopped multiple times before he got to the hospital and is now hanging on to his life through prayer and well trained medical professionals who are working to keep him stable enough to find out what's causing the problems with his heart.

Though he and his family no longer attend the church that I work at, he is very much a part of the extended community. He is no stranger to most of our youth group, and those who have attended the church for more than a few years. On Wednesday, our youth group was updated on his condition. He had been in and out of consciousness, but had started recognizing people. Though his heart wasn't working by itself he was able to be taken off of intubation and say a few words - enough to show hope that his brain may not have severe damage from lack of oxygen.

As we were discussing his condition one of the 9th grade boys asked "But, his going to be ok, Right? I mean, he'll recover?" The honest, and only response we, as adults, could provide was, "We don't know."

That moment was heavy, it forced everyone in the room to grapple with mortality, the character of God, and a sense of helplessness. It led us to do the only thing we could... pray. For the first time that I can remember the same 9th grader, who asked if Ben, the boy he may have met just a handful of times was going to be ok, offered to pray. It was a short but honest prayer, one that communicated his concern, faith, hope, and fear.

Something else struck me about his prayer - he wasn't just going through the motions, praying because it was expected of him - he seemed to be praying not from an emotional place but a deeper place of the soul. I step carefully into what I'm about to say, because it's topic that can feel over spiritual or emotionally manipulative in some circles. So I speak cautiously, but honestly. As he prayed for Ben, I could physically feel the presence of God working out fears, doubts, and the implications of Ben's condition in the youths' lives. Though God may not have instantly healed Ben in the moment that we prayed, there was a true sense of God in all of this, as scary, and painful as it has been for everyone who knows Ben personally. I can't say that there is much peace in what is happening for Ben and his family right now, but I do believe that God is present.

We continue to receive updates on Ben's condition. He is still in the ICU as tests are being run. His heart stopped twice two nights ago, and we still don't know what will happen. Family, friends, and communities are still praying, and doctors are still working hard. If you have a moment please pray for Ben and his family, as well as the doctors who are committed to his care.

Thin People

This is not a post about what you think it might be...

Over the past two months I've been meeting with a small group of people affiliated with the MacLaurin Institute at the University of Minnesota, to discuss N.T. Wright's book "Surprised by Hope - Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection and the mission of the Church." Let me say, if you're not interested in being challenged in at least one or two thoughts you may or may not have about being a Christ Follower, don't read this book. It wrecked me! Every week as we talked about Wright's thoughts and words to describe the profound reality we are asked to live in as Christians, I wanted to jump out of my seat and live into the beautiful mess that is life here on Earth.

Though I could probably go on and on about some of the ideas that Wright eloquently discussed, once sentence nearing the end of the book renewed my faith and hope in what I believe the Church (a community of committed Christ followers) both individually and collectively is capable of accomplishing in this "Kingdom here, but not yet," lived reality.

"The renewal and reclaiming of space has recently involved, among other things, a fresh grasp of the Celtic tradition of "thin places," places where the curtain between heaven and earth seems almost transparent."

Wright goes onto speak of church buildings, not as places to escape the world, but as "bridgeheads" into the world. All of which you couldn't convince me otherwise. However, the idea of "thin places," got me thinking. If the church, as a physical space is called to be a "place where the curtain between heaven and earth seems almost transparent," shouldn't those inside the church, those who profess with such zeal (or in some cases not nearly enough zeal), be "thin people?" People, who reflect the goodness of God in the light of the resurrection of Christ! Those engaging in justice (locally and internationally), those who seek beauty in the mess of it all, those who live out of such a place of hope that people can't help but be drawn nearer to the king of a kingdom that is here but not quite yet?

Perhaps this is in part how churches become "thin places." When a place, just as a container, is filled with what ever it maybe filled with, it takes on the identity of what it contains. If we truly desire to see churches and other places where groups of Christians gather, become "thin places" it must be filled with those committed to figuring out how to be thin people. This of course, is where life and being the church gets a bit difficult. If you've ever had to lose a significant amount of weight, the time and discipline that it takes to physically become healthy again can be really really hard. In the same way, becoming thin people in regards to Christ's kingdom, is not an easy endeavor. Churches don't instantly become thin places, because the people that fill them aren't all that thin. Thank God, we don't have to be thin in order to come through the doors, but shouldn't we be better about figuring out how to be thin, individually and collectively? Now, I don't think that's going to look the same for everyone and every church, but wow... to become thin people and create thin places "where the curtain between heaven and earth seems almost transparent." ...that gives me hope, that gives me direction.

Perspective

I logged onto blogger this morning to write some thoughts about... things that just don't matter as much after reading the blog of a woman who was part of my intervarsity group back in college.

Back in the beginning of April, I got an email from a mutual friend letting us know that Patty had been diagnosed with acute Lymphatic Leukemia. The cancer was caught while she was in Los Angeles attending her friends wedding as a Bridesmaid. She wasn't even allowed to head back up to the Bay Area to start treatment, instead she was admitted and began treatment in L.A. She chose to start blogging her journey as a way to reach out to long distant friends and share her story. In the times that I have taken to read about her journey I am always amazed and moved to pray.

I confess, that I haven't done a good job of keeping up with her life, nor spending much time in prayer. Today, however, as I was reading through some her posts here I was moved to tears by her strength, vulnerability, humility and honesty as she openly shared her feelings and experiences of the past 4 months.

If you have a chance to read any of Patty's thoughts or lift up a small prayer for her and her family, please do.

Preparing for a heat wave...

I think I'm finally getting this whole heat wave thing down. I've never lived in a climate that A/C was particularly necessary. Though it isn't entirely necessary here in St. Paul, there are a few weeks out of the summer that A/C would be really really nice. This weekend is turing out to be one of them. Once the heat index is up in the 90's it's pretty unbearable in my apartment, or outside, or anywhere without A/C. Cooking, cleaning, or anything that requires more than minimal heat producing energy is out of the question. So I decided to prepare for this coming heat wave to save on money and energy. Here are a few of the things I have learned along the way:

1. Once the temperature outside goes over 75 and there is no breeze close all windows and blinds. Then turn on all ceiling fans and air circulators.
2. Prepare cold pasta salads, and other meals that can be enjoyed cold. Turning on the oven or stove is a poor life decision during a heat wave.
3. Be sure to have enough iced coffee or other cool beverages (personally I make a Toddy Brew a day in advance so it can chill in the fridge for the night... I've also started using frozen fruit as ice in my water).
4. Prepare to be a morning person if you want to exercise. The coolest it's going to get is early in the morning.
5. Time showers so that you can fully dry in the cool of your car's A/C. You're hair will never fully dry otherwise... unless of course your hair loves humidity (mine thinks it's a dragon in this kind of weather).
6. Do any house cleaning before it gets too hot...
7. If all else fails make friends with people who have A/C and couch surf for the duration of the heat wave.

humility

Yesterday I lacked humility and was gently reminded of the consequences.

In a conversation with my friend who also happens to functionally be my boss I revealed the sad reality of part of my personality... my pride. Not only was it pride, it was the ugliest form of pride. It was the type of pride that revealed my thoughts of self righteousness at the detriment of those who I am in community with.

What I have found is the danger, yet perhaps blessing, of being an external processor is that we expose people to raw thoughts on a matter to organize them for future use. In one fowl swoop we can shed light on the ugliest and most beautiful aspects of who we are. It is in those moments that we are vulnerable to criticism and a false sense of grandeur.

What I am become more aware of is that few people are willing (nor should they be) to listen to my soapbox monologues on whatever has captured my thoughts and sift through what I mean and what I don't as I potentially minimize other's journey for the sake of making a point (which may or may not be valid).

Humility is one of those counterintuitive leadership qualities that I really struggle with. Admittedly, at times, I have found myself wondering, why am I not leading? ...only to realize half way into my pity party that I wanted to lead from a false sense of self grandeur.

Last week I sat around a fire with new and old friends as we discussed the possibility of humility being contagious. So I'd like to get your thoughts on the matter... Do we see Humility as a quality we desire in ourselves and in our leaders? What does it look like? Is it important? How is it acquired?

Why I choose to belong in Church Community

A few weeks ago I responded in a blog conversation with a fellow young adult who was exploring what he felt were reasons young adults are so disengaged with the church these days. This was one of my responses. For the full blog conversation go here.

I confess, my attachment to the church has much more personal than theological and Biblical roots. However, there is clearly scriptural encouragement to live in community… I mean look at Acts. That was life together. They encouraged one another, learned together, and had their conflicts. Personally, Christian community, specifically a church community, was the first place I actually came to understand what it meant to belong. Investing in something bigger than myself, in more than just my own spiritual journey, and allowing others to really come alongside me and for community members to allow me to walk alongside them changed my understand of who God is, and what the church should look and feel like. The experience of belonging in a community of Christ followers helped me realize what it could mean to belong in Christ.

Unfortunately, this deep sense of belonging, of being cared for is hard to do and hard to accept. We all have our scars, and baggage. Some church communities can be judgmental, emotionally manipulative, hateful, and insensitive. You put enough people in pain and/or denial in one place, and that’s what can happen. I don’t think the potential of being hurt lets us off the hook of experiencing God in community.

As young adults, we really need to sort out why we don’t want to go to church or why we don’t like that community. Do we feel unheard or invisible? Do we feel like there is space for us? Do we feel challenged? Do we feel cared for? Is there space for us to serve and be served? Once we start figuring out why on earth we are so resistant to go to church we need to start talking about it with people who listen and respond.

A few years ago I found myself so cynical that I had become resistant to almost all things Christian (I had a horrible experience with a church). Lent season was quickly approaching, and I thought it would be an interesting experiment to give up bitterness. Every Christian experience that came my way I tried to withhold my cynicism and simply take part (example here) . It was uncomfortable and difficult. Two months later I met a pastor who had read my blog about my experiment and invited me to be part of a church plant. That church plant happened to be the church community that I came to truly understand what belonging in Christ meant.

Honestly, I still find that I’m pretty cynical. I’m quick to question the motives of a church, I’m always asking questions, and I probably push some pastors buttons. Yet, I am ridiculously hopeful. I’m hopeful that church communities can become places of honesty, accountability, love, and belonging to everyone willing to journey alongside each other.

Mind dump (thoughts on living without a father)

I have a midterm paper to write, and therefore all I can think to write about is slightly irrelevant to what I need to write.

Here's what's on my mind.

Growing up without a consistent father figure.

I know there's been a huge push by Obama to address the "fatherlessness" in the U.S. I love that he's put a collation together and put effort into supporting those with creative ideas for providing more mentors in youth's lives. I have, however, noticed that mentoring often addresses the needs of same sex relationships. Young boys without fathers, and girls without mothers. Perhaps I'm missing some amazing programs aimed at children living without a consistent opposite sex parental figure.

Last year I read Donald Miller's Father Fiction, and I found it to be one of the most validating books in my journey through life without a father figure. It spoke to my insecurities, and my skewed expectations towards men. I am thankful for his efforts in training more mentors in the church to care about youth in a meaningful way. Yet, I feel that girls without fathers, and maybe boys without mothers miss out.

These thoughts have always been in the back of my mind (for the past two years or so), however a conversation with a group of girls this weekend, brought it back to the forefront. I spent two hours chatting with three teenage girls who, for some reason or another, did not have their father in their life. We talked about the awkwardness of our mother's dating, and our fears in future relationships, as well as the little voice in the back of our head that said, we weren't good enough for our father. Spoken or not, it's there, and it's painful. That voice follows us everywhere we go. Even into our relationship with God.

I don't have answers for what I'm musing about. There are no easy answers for these kind of things, but it's something worth thinking about.

Advent Musings

Stretched across time

Reading from the past

Living in the present

Dreaming of the future

Excitement

Anticipation

Hope

Advent

The season of Advent just caught me in its grasp

The waiting of it all

The anticipation

The hope

The fear mixed with excitement of the past becoming present, giving birth to the future

Prophets proclaimed it

He shall be Emmanuel!

God with us

And it was so

The past brought present and into the future

Today I am caught in a waiting game

Knowing I am here right now

Not knowing where I will be in the future

Anticipating reunion

Hoping that I will know how to listen and respond

When past becomes present and future is birthed.

I keep meaning to post...

...but I haven't been able to finish a coherent thought about the past 6 months. So here's the important bits, and perhaps something a bit more deep and introspective will follow.

• I'm moving to Minnesota this fall for Grad School. It's cold there so I bought some new jackets.
• I'm leaving my current job and home in a month, and I don't really have solid plans for the summer.

Early mornings

Warm tea

The quiet patter and rush of a near waking world

Take Joy

In the laughter and tears

In the rest and toil

Take joy

In the peace of a newborn

In the giggles of a young child

Take Joy

In passionate prayers

and a shared journey

Take joy

In faith

In friendship

In family

Take joy

In any way you can

find

show

share

give

receive

love

those who surround you

In joy

The prospect of moving

It is likely that I will be leaving San Francisco, my home of more than six years, in pursuit of further education. Though, cold and flat, Minneapolis, MN has one of the best programs for Youth Development at a Masters level. I spent the better part of this past week on the campus of the University of Minnesota speaking with professors, grad students, and other connected organization. I was desperate to find a flaw, anything that would send me running from the program or the state so I could justify not applying. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I was enamored by the program, the people, and the campus. Though it is cold and flat, Minneapolis is warmed with community and kindness.

Since coming home to my chilly room surrounded by loud and smelly teenage boys, I have kept myself busy researching possible grant money, and attempting to get a better understanding of the city that I might call home next fall. Beyond sharing a similar language of an urban city, I am under no disillusion that Minneapolis speaks the same dialect. I am desperate to understand the culture, and what breaths life into the midwest city. I am curious, and slightly dreamy eyed at the prospect of gathering new knowledge, and different perspectives.

Though, in all honesty I hold a lot of fear at moving away from what I know. My community, the family I have chosen to be part of, is here. I am supported, and cared for - in turn I support and care for them. We share a common language and though our passions are different they come from the same place.

I suppose it's a bit silly to be thinking of these things with almost a year in between here and there. Yet, it is in this moments, when a decision is being made, does the gravity of everything pull me into a deeper understanding of what I have and could walk away from.

Rarely do I have the joy of choosing between good and bad, true or false. Those kind of decisions are often more clear than the option between good and great.

Thoughts on sailing, drifting, and not drowning (and a bit about the titanic)

I'm not the sailing type. In fact I've never been on a sail boat, unless you count playing on my friend's sail boat in the drive way when we were kids. I have driven a boat before, but that's not really where I'm heading with this.

A few weeks ago I found myself in a conversation with four other single people laughing over the "misery" of our single status. In reality I don't think misery is the right word, but it sounds good, and a little bit dramatic, so I'll keep it. It was observed that many people who we saw as less emotionally prepared for a relationship ended up married long before those whom we felt were deserving of a long term relationship. My friend made a very titanic analogy by explaining in the following terms...

Some people see themselves in floating around in an ocean with nothing to hang onto, so the first warm body they see in a similar situation they grab onto. Both of them cling for dear life. That's how people who we least expect to get married first, get married.

My thoughts... sad but true.

We've all watched the movie or at least know the plot... Jack dies.

So many relationships are born out of fear of being alone. We drift aimlessly into the arms of someone else aimlessly drifting near by. How is that expected to start a healthy relationship, if there is such an urgency to remedy our loneliness? One person won't fix that, let's be honest it's something deeper!

I may not be good at sailing, but I did spend last summer life guarding. Though I spent most of my certification process on heavy pain killers, I remember a vital life saving tactic. Most people who are panicking often make the mistake of grabbing on for dear life. As a life guard, you're best hope at saving the person from drowning and not personally drowning in the process is getting your floatation device securely in between you and the victim. If they grab on to you, get out - for your sake and their sake too. Two people hanging onto each other in hopes to float, will most likely sink, as will frantically trying to grab onto the closest person who looks like they can swim or save you.

Just some thoughts.

To the San Francisco State University Graduates of 2009

I am so proud of your incredible accomplishment. You are a college graduate. More specifically you are a graduate of San Francisco State University. Many may not be impressed by your school's prestige (or lack there of), but never let that shadow, what you know to be true. You may not be graduating from an Ivy League, heck or even a UC school, but you are graduating with experience, knowledge, and passion. Experience that has prepared you for your next steps in life.

You are not entering into the real world - you've been in it - you are simply taking a moment to look over what the past x amount of years in the real world has handed you, and what may come in the future. You are not ending your pursuit of knowledge, but you are acknowledging this day as a mile stone in your pursuit, of what I hope is truth.

You have become fearlessly passionate people. Pursuing more than just your own betterment, but the betterment of those around you, the communities you live in, and the communities you wish to be a part of. Your passion, earned and acquired, will cause you immense joy, but not without moments of heart wrenching pain. It is in those moments, you will find the most growth, you will dream new dreams, and you will reestablish your passion and drive.

As San Francisco State University Graduates, no matter what circumstances brought us there, we come out of there thankful for the education we received, the experiences we gained, the friendships we made, and the money we saved.

Like the alumni that moved mountains before us, we will move our own mountains. We will carve paths to success, not just for ourselves, but for those around us. We may not have an Ivy League diploma, but we know how to fight for our education. One class at a time, one waiting list at a time, one fee increase protest at a time!

San Francisco State University graduates of 2009 welcome to life beyond your BA. May God let you dream dreams and create positive change where ever you may go. Never forget your experiences, never downplay your accomplishments, and never forget those who carved that path for you (regardless of who they are). In those memories, may you help others find their place of success.

Congratulations San Francisco State University, Class of 2009!

The weight of the world is pretty freakin' heavy

Chaim Potok, in his books The Chosen, and The Promise, broaches the subject of carrying the burdens of other people. He does this through his fictional depiction of certain Hasidim Jewish sects that settled in Brooklyn, NY in the years following the Holocaust. He describes it in such a vivid way, that at times, I too, carried the weight of the characters. If I were a more motivated person I would give you quotes and all that good stuff, but I'm sitting in my office and not in my bedroom.

The heaviness of life can often bog us down. It has this muddy quality that pulls our being into the places we desire to never be and have feelings we would rather push aside. At times this is a lonely place, or at least we perceive it to be. We feel alone in our heaviness. We cope in ways that are often destructive to ourselves and those around us. A past pastor of mine once said, "Hurt people, hurt people." We become wounded animals, feeling trapped in our circumstances, alone, and in danger. We often refuse help until we realize how desperate our circumstances have become. For most of us it is a moment of anguish that causes us to grasp the first warm body that seems somewhat understanding. We cling to them for dear life.

I've had a few moments in my life that I have clung, eyes squeezed tight, gripping tightly to an unseen truth or reality. Often a friend or mentor has been that person I've grasped onto. Not because of their strength in pulling me out of my muddy heaviness, but because they trusted in something much bigger than themselves to help me.

Coming out of those moments, I have found that I try to be there for others, and to be that person who relies fully upon God, that something much bigger than myself, to help them through. I confess, though, that it is a hard place to be. The heaviness of those around me pulls me into mud much thicker than my own. I forget how to reach out for help, to not act like a wounded animal. Helping others requires a strength that I, alone, do not possess. I care too much. I find myself with a weight I cannot bare. At times I feel, in my effort to be helpful, I enable. I carry a burden I was never meant to carry.

I don't want to be a person that finds my identity in my acts, but in my character - a character that reflects the light of something much larger than myself. Nine years ago I made the commitment to learn how to live outside of heaviness. I came into contact and experienced the love and understanding of a God that was much more capable of carrying my weight, and the weight of others. As with most things in life, this is a process, and not something most people, myself included, learn overnight. I am still learning, and that's hard for me to admit. Thankful there is grace in the moments I find myself back in the mud or weighed down by weight I should not be carrying.

So, to all of those who want to save the world, and be there for others. Take care of yourself, and remember it's not about being a savior, but rather doing our best to light the path to the savior.

Gender Roles in Children's lit (and other thoughts around it)

I was minding my own business, and thinking about nothing overly stimulating this morning as I read through my google reader feeds. That is, until I read Janelle Paris' blog about the thoughts she encountered while her boys sung Yankee Doodle. My thoughts of chocolate macaroons (there's a box of them in the office I'm in), and what word would get me the most points in the current scrabble game I'm playing online, were suddenly replaced with feelings of feminist spite (ok, maybe not that strong, but it sounded good, didn't it?).

After writing a brief comment back, I quickly went to brainstorming the books that I had been exposed to as a young child and into my elementary school years. Since I clearly can't remember the books that were read to me as a very young child, I asked a friend of mine what sex and/or gender the main characters were of the books she read her two year old son. I wasn't too surprised to hear that most of the books had male main characters. I can't say that she was specifically looking for books that had male characters since she has a son (I'm sure we'll talk about that idea later), but I'm not so sure that there are many female characters in young children books. There are, of course, exceptions to the rule, but really, what was read to you when you were a young child?

Now, this whole thing got me thinking. What we read to children and later require them to read in school is not only solidifying harmless gender roles, but normalizing the dynamics of power and privilege with (white) males on top. **Now this is completely based off my own experiences and what I've observed when working with children and teens.** Most of the books that we are required to read through out school have male main Characters (especially in high school) - Catcher in the Rye, Of Mice and Men, A Farewell to Arms, The Great Gastby, the Grapes of Wrath... I could continue. Again, there are exceptions - A Tree grows in Brooklyn (something I recently picked up, but that was required for some of my friends), The Bell Jar and a few others. As required reading, both males and females are exposed to the ideas and roles of the author and characters. Is it possible that being read, and required to read books that predominately feature male main characters through out the first 18 years of our life could socialize women into an already male dominate society, and in the same token, socialize men to step into the dominate role?

I'm obviously not the only who thinks about these things... am I crazy for letting my thoughts wander down these paths? Is there anything being done about it (I think yes, but it's small)? What can I do about it? What can others do about it?

New year, New questions

Something has been simmering in the back of my mind for a few months. As it seems to be bubbling over into my comments I leave on other blogs I suppose I should make mention of it here.

Over the past couple of years I seem to have acquired a group of teenagers. To a few of them I am known by their friends as "the friend who cares." To others, I'm the house parent that gets way too excited about Jesus. Either way, I've recognized I have a significant voice in their lives. My hope would be to engage them in the beginning (or continuation) of a spiritual conversation and journey. However I struggle with providing a path to follow - at least a somewhat structured one. In the past I have been able to invite individual teens or groups of them to church. I've always been very intentional in which churches I've brought them to, as well as doing my best to connect them to others in their age group that might be influential. Here's the thing though - I don't go to a traditional church anymore. My church meets in the living room of an apartment. We're a group of adults generally geeking out about the Bible, theology, ethics, world news and other such issues that can be difficult for teens to pull into their understanding of the world. Let's face it, I can struggle to stay afloat in our conversations, should I expect teens to?

So what does teenage spirituality look like in an nontraditional, dare I say house church setting? Do I pawn them off to another ministry when it's clear they don't feel comfortable in the YoungLife or other various youth group settings? I'm at a loss! One on one I can talk to them about the deeper things in life, but I know life is better in community.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks about these things.

Year-end thoughts

As a writer (in my own way), I can’t help but try and put some year-end thoughts down on paper. This year could write a book by itself. I’ve traveled more than 30 thousand miles in my little yellow beetle, and if only I could quantify the emotional, intellectual, and spiritual journeys 2008 has taken me on, I’m sure it would amount to a number greater than the miles my odometer states in my car.
I’ve attempted several times to write something about this past year. As I am rarely brief and short winded, the endeavor has often led into a haphazard rambling mess. So to keep it readable, I’m just going to go for a few lessons learned.

On Passion

Passion is unpredictable, and can lead you to many different places, it can be volatile, jealous, and self-seeking, yet God given. It must be held in an open palm, but not let loose. Somewhere in 2008, I realized I had neglected my passion. In an effort to remember what it was I found myself driving across the country to spend another summer in eastern Michigan. It wasn’t until the end of the summer on a road trip where I found myself in Atlanta, GA that I reclaimed that passion and found the peace to come back home to San Francisco.

On Faith

Faith is yet another intangible that is more easily misplaced than expected. I spent a greater part of the year nursing the wounds that can sadly come with sharing faith in a community. While God is unchanging, people do not have that privilege. Even though I left my church, I can thankfully say I did not leave God. Unfortunately, bitterness settled into my wounds, and my relationship with God and the church as a whole suffered. There came a dark moment that scared the beejeezees out of me, when I realized that losing faith and my relationship with God wasn’t about leaping off the deep end, but rather small quiet steps. Thankfully the end of 2008 saw more steps towards God than away. My bitterness has edged off (I’m not very good at holding grudges for too long), and I’m reclaiming my faith.

On People

People come in and out of our lives. They just do. Sometimes, for better or for worse, people leave when you least expect them to. Other times, people stay when you wish they would just go away. And again, other times you get to do the coming and going. I did a lot of coming and going this year. So, in this moment I’m going to apologize to those who I left. There are a few people I couldn’t have made it through some painful times without, and I don’t think I took nearly enough time in letting them know how much they meant to me. Thank you for being there, and I’m sorry if I didn’t let you know at the time. With that said, I could say something similar (perhaps without the apology) for people who have come into my life this year. God does not leave you high and dry. He created us for relationship, so I’m sure it’s no mistake, as some go, others come.

I think that’s as brief as I can get for 2008. I’m looking forward to 2009 – the changes, the challenges, the triumphs, and the growth.

I hope everyone has (or had) a safe new years eve.