bearing

" As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit - just as you were called to one home when you were called - one Lord, one faith, on baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all." -Ephesians 4:1-6

bearing: to hold up; support. To hold or remain firm under. To suffer; endure; undergo. To strive harder, intensify one's efforts.

I am learning, again, that we're all human and prone to pride, harshness, impatience, anger, frustration, and disunity. What does it look like to bear with one another? To suffer for, with and because of each other? To support and uphold? This is a hard thing to do - bearing with one another - much more so in love. In love requires us to examine how we are bearing with one another. Not in anger or frustration, not it pride or impatience, but in love.

Peace

Have you ever had the feeling that life is about to explode, that something has to give? People can only be pulled in so many directions for so long. I have to wonder, what's going to give, and what's going to follow. I have a sense of peace about it all though. It must be God, because, well let's just be honest, the only time I'm not overly stressed out is because someone else is more stressed out or God has somehow circumvented the freak out button. Though, I have a feeling I am not the one most stressed out, and I would hope that means a miracle is about to happen, I'm not so sure that's where God is taking all of this change.

God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change
Courage to change the things I can
And the Wisdom to know the difference.
Amen

Sheep!

My mom has many stories about me when I was little. Most parents do. As I have heard them, some more than others, my mind has warped stories with brief memories and infused them into a hybrid of what I heard and what I could remember. One particular story that I seem to remember whenever a topic near to it comes up, is about sheep and driving.

When I was young, probably two or three, but no older than four, I must have been obsessed with sheep. Perhaps it was just that I was at the age where I was able to point at things and give them names, and sheep was just one of them I had learned that week. Needless to say, my mom has commented (more than once) on a particular drive through the countryside of England, in the "lellow" car. I must have sheep in one of the fields, and in one of those young, excited voices, I screamed " Sheeeeeep! Mummy, sheeeeep!" Apparently I must have scared her sufficiently enough to retell the story, and therefore have it firmly placed in my memory. Little Leya sitting on cushions in the passenger seat of an old "lellow" car screaming at the sheep as we passed by.

Somewhere in my younger Christian years, mid-high school I would guess, I grew fascinated with the idea that we, human beings, are continually referred to as sheep. Dumb, in fact ridiculously stupid animals. I mean, they drown on their backs in the rain, they always want the grass elsewhere (usually on the other side of the fence) even if the grass is better where they are, and they are always prone to wander. They need to be watched over constantly. They cannot defend themselves. And we are referred to as sheep... I can see the resemblance. When Jesus entered the picture (on Earth, that is), he talked some about sheep, and about shepherding. He was after all, referred to as the good shepherd, so it would make sense... even though he was a carpenter by trade... but I digress. One of my favorite parables is about the lost sheep (the beginning of Luke 15). Jesus explains that if one sheep out of a hundred sheep is lost, a good shepherd will leave the 99 to find the one missing one. What's worse leaving one dumb animal by itself or leaving 99 for the sake of the one that probably wandered off? This parable used to confuse me. Why on earth would you put the 99 sheep in danger, for one? You have 99 more! One sheep isn't going to make a huge difference on the amount of wool you're going to get at sheering time. I don't think I ever piped up about my questions in bible study when we talked about this, so it took time for me to realize the significance of it all. Apparently shepherds know their sheep... by name, even. If one goes missing, it's akin to one of my kids at day camp missing. 99 sheep probably aren't going to bolt and their's strength in numbers, even if they aren't the smartest and well equipped animals, but one sheep by itself can get seriously lost and hurt without someone watching over it. Ends started to meet and I was left with the understanding that no matter the number of sheep, or anything special to us, if we care enough about it, we are going to seek out the lost or missing. More over God is going to seek out the lost or missing, not because He isn't concerned about the rest, but because he cares that much about me, or He cares that much about the individual. There are more than 6 billion people roaming this world and He knows us by name, and He cares enough to seek us out.

I don't think I will fully understand the reality of God's compassion.

Great things

I want to do great things. It's hard to sit still, and I don't do it very often, need I say often enough. I'm about to start a job that isn't my dream, and I wonder what God has in store for me. What is he preparing me for? After the earthquake in Peru and the mine mishap in Utah, I wonder. I am drawn to disaster, I am drawn to those who are hurting. It's hard to be where I am, mentally. I am bitter toward those who have so much yet give so little - building their own palaces. Yet I do this personally, not in a million dollar type of way, but with my time and with what money I have, I build an empire of my own, neglecting the Kingdom God has established for me! Why should I be so haughty and proud to believe that I could build something greater than He?
I'm sure some of my friends call me cynical and sarcastic, heck! I call myself those things, but I think they are starting to be more negative influences in my life - in my relationship with God. I struggle to see the church and people represented in a positive light. I doubt any goodness I see in people, and I am unsurprised by the poor decisions other Christians make. I struggle to see the fruit that my life bares when I neglect my prayer time or time reading my Bible. Instead I grab a novel or watch some TV. Each season I convince myself to read a little more, pray a little more, and all in vain as I sit back down to the TV and grab my book of choice. It's not to say that I can't watch TV and I think I might go a little crazy with out a novel in progress. However, my priorities are skewed. It's that constant struggle to keep God first others second, and myself at the end of that line, while not neglecting my personal sanity.

Thoughts on "Not for Sale"

Faces of lost
Faces of stolen
Faces of enslaved
Broken by the hand and mind of man
Stolen freedom
So uncomprehendible
What lies have we believed?
To become so blind
To become so deaf
To the pain and suffering
That surrounds us
We live beside it
Breathing. Praying. Pleading.
For us to see, to hear
Why have we believed such lies?
Not all can say they are not for sale

duality

My mind has slowed down in the past hour, but today has been full of thoughts, dreams, wanderings, and a touch of anxiety (perhaps more of a temporary grasp caused by unknown reaches in Aardvark books).

After a lazy and unfortunately early morning I finalized plans to meet Lauren at Civic Center and have a small City adventure. As usual I was running early/on-time and Lauren was running a little late. In a moment of sheer brilliance (ok, more like smart thinking) I decided to read my book in the UN plaza as it was sunny, unlike my current housing location. As I was shuttled up the escalator into the downtown sun I could hear a couple arguing about money. I wasn't surprised when I saw it was a homeless couple. A few people discreetly watched the argument, but most people just passed by. As I walked towards the fountain I could see groups of homeless laying out in the early afternoon sun. It has been a strangely warm summer for San Francisco. One man in particular caught my eye - he was laying in front of the black marble pillar that had the words of the United Nation's charter preamble inscribed in it. I was taken back by the duality and dare say the hypocrisy that this image created. A man that lay homeless and unconscious to the world lay at the foot of a structure that sought to memorialize a charter - a proclamation - that declared the "equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family." I was inspired to write

I sit beneath two flags
Amidst a memorial that proclaims peace
Thar cries out for the equal rights of all mankind
Laying in the sun under the black marble placard that bare the words
That brought the United Nations into being
A man recovers from his sleepless night
Crotch wet with urine
Mouth open wide
His chest rises and falls
Unconscious of the city that moves around him
Tourists search to find a way to capture
The freedom giving words
Without the image of a man that clearly sites the duality of what this plaza truly represents

I spent my afternoon walking around the city with Lauren. We grabbed a picnic style lunch from Trader Joe's and enjoyed it in the sunshine of the park that I have been to every Monday afternoon with my Day Camp kids. It seemed much more peaceful today. We passed through Yerba Buena Gardens and as much as I wanted to taken in the Martin Luther King Memorial and the beauty of the green sanctuary that lay tucked in between the MOMA and the Metreon. After a quick wander around the MOMA gift shop we made our way to the embarcadero via Peet's and Market St. Eventually we parted ways and I was left to write my grandma a letter on a notecard that I picked up at the gift shop. I found myself writing to her on one of the piers as the fog rolled in. After the fog came in I made my way back to MUNI to head down to Church St. to explore Aardvark books. I hadn't been in there for a while, but as a pleasant surprise the moldy smell had disappeared. I suspect it has more to do with the weather drying out the old carpet than the mold going away. It was strange to be walking around there by myself again. I think it took me back to a place that I didn't want to be. I was so overwhelmed at one point I had to sit down and write:

"I suddenly have the intense feeling to escape my life and live on the streets of San Francisco... is that normal for recent graduates? I'm sitting on the floor of Aardvark Books against the Native American Studies bookshelf. This sudden feeling came just after a brief moment of anxiety as I walked through the used literature and during my perusal of the travel section. After the realization that there are very little guides that show San Francisco for what it is. The beauty, the pain and the struggle of the people of this city. I wonder if I should act on this feeling. My mother, in my mind, is saying it would be a bad idea. Debbie is saying I should pray about it, and Lauren is doing the thoughtful "mmmm." I'm trying to talk myself down and put a little rationality and reason in my head . I am afraid of adulthood."

After purchasing my books my mind reeled all the way home. It seemed to slow down after I got some food in my stomach and sat down to write. I did realize something important though, as I walked home from West Portal... I should live in community, I need to live inside of my head less, it gets scary in there!

Sober

I am tired.

No wait, I am at my tipping point, I have passed tired and I'm just running on the pure grace of God, which seems to be my frayed rescue rope. Well worn and stretched out, I don't know how long it can hold me up. It sounds almost silly to think that God's grace is wearing out, but in my head there is very little ability to grasp onto the grace that he has given me.