I was made to be a lover, a lover of beauty, and people, which in my opinion, are one in the same, but ultimately, a lover of God. This seems to be a trinity of sorts for me, each intimately intertwined with the other, when broken down to the basics of each. Beauty is of God, people are beautiful, people are made in Gods image, love people, and you are loving God. I find it easy to love people on the surface, I have no trouble showing my love through service, or gifts, encouragement or which ever avenue i think will speak the loudest to the one i am trying to communicate with. I have no trouble reveling in beautiful things, the sound of tall grass blowing in the wind, or running my fingers over stones smooth and cold, a bow against the strings, or the electric connection of a kiss. I have no trouble with the idea of loving God, but when it comes down to it , what I was created to do, love, love God, requires more than all of me, a constant out pouring of myself, perpetual self denial and death, with out expecting anything in return. Christ. When it comes down to really loving people, to put it simply, I'm really bad at it. When I try to muster beauty from with in myself, I produce a mere sad imitation of what real beauty is.
I have always struggled with a sense of entitlement, and a mind set of self preservation, (which is such a contrast to what the Spirit evokes in me, the Spirit tells me to pour out, my flesh tells me to hoard) but who am I to dam the flood gates of Gods love, and grace for His people when I was made to be the conduit. Who am I to try and "guard my heart" against the pain, the severity of authentic love, love that asks for nothing in return and pours itself out like a drink offering. Thats what I was made for, that is Christ in me, this is my burden and my cross. I would like to say that I bear it willingly, but when Im honest with myself, I don't.
I find that I often rebel the most against the call or mission God has for my life, my purpose because I am too afraid of the reality that it is not of myself and that I, in the end, will get no recognition for it. (But at the same time I have so much joy at the thought of glorifying God in my love for others and being transparent in that...) I struggle with the idea that there is nothing I can do to earn salvation, there has to be some sort of transaction, everything I've ever had I've had to work my ass off for. I selfishly give my poor imitation of love to God and to people in hopes of getting some sort of recognition or safety, love in return. Love keeps going even when it gets screwed over, again and again and again. It doesn't make sense. Grass grows everywhere, it endures.
This contrast of the finite and eternal, who and what I was made to be and do, who I truly am, and who I have made myself to be is so drastic. I long for the day when I extend love freely and seek nothing in return but the sound of my fathers voice singing over me. I want to love God through loving people, because thats what he's called me to do, in what ever way possible, no matter what, in every situation, try to love, really love, people. That requires vulnerability. That requires trust, that is the opposite of my humanity, my tendency towards self preservation and protection, but really, its not that I need to trust people necessarily, but ultimately, God. Trust that even though I feel like I am constantly pouring myself out, constantly exposing my soul, constantly trying to give, to connect, to love and I see no fruits, no gratification, no reciprocation, my labor in not in vain. Eternal success can not be gauged with our finite eyes.
When we get screwed over by people that we are bending over backwards for, our efforts are not nul and void just because they are taken advantage of. Working (well, more like observing the work of those involved with Light Gives heat ) in Uganda and in youth ministry, has taught me this, despite what seems like a lack of "success" , or "progress" in those you are trying to love, the out pouring of love is what matters, the consistent out pouring of the fruits of the spirit, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, self control; forgiveness, mercy, grace, endurance is what brings glory to God, and thats what I want for my life. There is a quote from one of my favorite books, which I don't have with me and Im going to try my best to explain but probably wont do it justice, about art, about an image, lets say a painting of Jesus on wood. We see the image of Jesus, we see that the paint and the wood make up the image but we ascribe nothing to the paint and the wood itself, all we see is the image as a whole, we say it is beautiful. Love is like that.
The toil of loving people is the paint, the pain in loving people is the wood, but in the end its not about either, its about the image as a whole that is conveyed, in the end all that matters is that love is conveyed. This thought brings me back to my earlier image of the trinity of people beauty and God. They are one in the same, I boldly say that you cant love one with out loving the others. This inspires me, and is what spurs me on to endure, to love boldly and painfully, its really got nothing to do with me anyway. When I look at like this, I can exhale and inhale and be free, because this is what I was made for and I am fulfilled.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
excerpt.
Today I tied all of the tiny things
your strong hands once had placed into mine,
to red balloons, bright and happy against the sky
and the smoke twirling from my cigarette.
my fingers rejoiced and trebbled while they feebly
tied nots to precious sticks and twigs, rocks and toys from
when you were just a boy.
I remember the night you came back for me, and
i had them strewn about the living room floor. you
collapsed into my out stretched arms, you had never seen
this little box of treasures before, though i had mentioned it
once, or maybe twice, or twenty times.
The wind took your trinkets and their cherry colored
chariots to the skies.
I was worried that the jacobs ladder,
wooden and heavy, wouldnt take flight
but it did.
We were children then, dreamers, wide eyed and giddy.
We are supposed to be grown now.
I am still wide eyed.
My hopes are that your letters will seem fitting
to a mother bird to line her nest with your words,
so dear to me when I was a child.
your strong hands once had placed into mine,
to red balloons, bright and happy against the sky
and the smoke twirling from my cigarette.
my fingers rejoiced and trebbled while they feebly
tied nots to precious sticks and twigs, rocks and toys from
when you were just a boy.
I remember the night you came back for me, and
i had them strewn about the living room floor. you
collapsed into my out stretched arms, you had never seen
this little box of treasures before, though i had mentioned it
once, or maybe twice, or twenty times.
The wind took your trinkets and their cherry colored
chariots to the skies.
I was worried that the jacobs ladder,
wooden and heavy, wouldnt take flight
but it did.
We were children then, dreamers, wide eyed and giddy.
We are supposed to be grown now.
I am still wide eyed.
My hopes are that your letters will seem fitting
to a mother bird to line her nest with your words,
so dear to me when I was a child.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
it is so interesting to me that we are both eternal and finite.
God is in us but we are human.
We must die to be with God.
we forfiet the finite, so that the eternal will be.
weird.
"You've got a heart on fire,
it's bursting with desires.
You've got a heart filled with passion.
Will you let it burn for hate or compassion."
God is in us but we are human.
We must die to be with God.
we forfiet the finite, so that the eternal will be.
weird.
"You've got a heart on fire,
it's bursting with desires.
You've got a heart filled with passion.
Will you let it burn for hate or compassion."
Saturday, April 25, 2009
grapes: st pauls cathedral.
I wonder whats happened
to the grape vine bracelet
I made earlier this night.
Those grapes were the deepest
plum color and tasted tart.
i never knew how beautiful
the vine is, once the grapes have been plucked,
thats why i made a bracelet.
I suppose its been crushed
by now, my bracelet,
under someone's clumsy foot.
It would have browned anyway,
been lost in a purse or pocket,
crumbled.
It was delicate.
She is delicate, im sure.
Much like I am,
much like my bracelet is, or was.
Though, I do not know her well.
No, not yet.
She liked my grape vine bracelet.
i liked that she noticed my hands
feebly binding the vines together.
Small hands, small vines, big blue eyes.
love binds us like grapes on the vine.
black beans are great for baking.
my hair looks good
when the window is rolled down,
and I am looking away.
the rich in wealth seek the rich,
and the poor tend to smell funny.
I like very pale beer.
He forgot the key to his bike
while delivering low fat
baked goods.
He doesn't know what to make of me.
My expensive pants look great on him.
He leaves his shit at my house, in my head.
I choose to think about the weather instead.
She asks me about africans.
I feel sick.
The key works in the door
for the first time in weeks,
my thighs burn from climbing three flights.
She is happy for the first time in a long time.
I remind her that sometimes
sadness is good for growing.
we are trees, watered by our tears.
we grow.
love binds us like grapes on the vine.
Her long hair is on his mind,
He thinks about the weather instead.
She is climbing mountains,
for the first time.
love binds us like grapes on the vine.
to the grape vine bracelet
I made earlier this night.
Those grapes were the deepest
plum color and tasted tart.
i never knew how beautiful
the vine is, once the grapes have been plucked,
thats why i made a bracelet.
I suppose its been crushed
by now, my bracelet,
under someone's clumsy foot.
It would have browned anyway,
been lost in a purse or pocket,
crumbled.
It was delicate.
She is delicate, im sure.
Much like I am,
much like my bracelet is, or was.
Though, I do not know her well.
No, not yet.
She liked my grape vine bracelet.
i liked that she noticed my hands
feebly binding the vines together.
Small hands, small vines, big blue eyes.
love binds us like grapes on the vine.
black beans are great for baking.
my hair looks good
when the window is rolled down,
and I am looking away.
the rich in wealth seek the rich,
and the poor tend to smell funny.
I like very pale beer.
He forgot the key to his bike
while delivering low fat
baked goods.
He doesn't know what to make of me.
My expensive pants look great on him.
He leaves his shit at my house, in my head.
I choose to think about the weather instead.
She asks me about africans.
I feel sick.
The key works in the door
for the first time in weeks,
my thighs burn from climbing three flights.
She is happy for the first time in a long time.
I remind her that sometimes
sadness is good for growing.
we are trees, watered by our tears.
we grow.
love binds us like grapes on the vine.
Her long hair is on his mind,
He thinks about the weather instead.
She is climbing mountains,
for the first time.
love binds us like grapes on the vine.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Long overdue.
My feet are finally back on the cold hard city ground, its been months since that red stain has lifted.
Chicago. Africa.
Wenwangei.
We are One.
more to come soon.
"You surround me, your pretty, but youre all I can see"
Chicago. Africa.
Wenwangei.
We are One.
more to come soon.
"You surround me, your pretty, but youre all I can see"
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Togende Na Weai (I am not afraid)
"I want to skip like a stone from a stronger arm
Each one I throw is moving somewhere
Oh, let me go
I will go out, out, out, out
Past these yellow ropes
I am not afraid"
For the last week or so, since I told Nora that I would be leaving soon, she has said to me, "Togenda Na Weai" (Let's go together). Leaving the village has gotten harder and harder, seeing her stick her thumb in her little mouth and walk away, head bent, makes me so sad. Nora isnt really affiliated with SUUBI, shes an orphan, living in Danita with her JaJa (grandmother), but since the SUUBI women meet and sell the necklaces IN Danita, I got to meet this beautiful little girl. Thats one of the things I love about what LGH is doing in Uganda. We are infected with their hope, that of the SUUBI ladies, and the community around them, and Molly says we infect them with our love. So for those of you who are curious about what SUUBI does here, it goes so much farther than just buying necklaces. We are able to start building the community around this place, the red dirt becomes a part of us, just like the laughter of the mommas at the meetings and the smell of g-nut sauce and charcoal stoves. We are making connections that will last into eternity, seeing God reveal Himself through His people.
Today I finally got to say to Nora, "Lets go together".
She ran to her home, and put on what seemed to be her best little dress (must have been handed down and down and down) and scrubbed her feet. Sieeda did the same and so did Christine (Nora's little sister).
We walked all the way back to the house, about a mile i think. Not once did any of them complain about the heat or the distance, I kept thinking to myself, "American kids could never ever do this..."
We stopped and bought some Mirinda, my favorite pop here, (for those of you from Michigan, its similar to the taste of Faygo Red Pop but a gazillion times better)and the girls opened the bottle tops with their teeth.My mom would kill me if I even tried to do that.(blah blah blah 30,000 dollars worth of braces and surgery blah blah blah...wow that makes me seem like I had terrible teeth,I didn't...)
We got to the house and I gave them the grand tour, showed them how to flush a toilet. (Nora was AMAZED) They all insisted on peeing in the toilet, one after the other hahahah, and then watching the toilet flush. Every time it flushed they would let out an African, "Eh!" and their eyes would get all big.
I showed them the freezer, which brought on another round of "Eh!"'s. At one point, I touched the ice in the freezer and it stuck to my finger and Nora and Sieeda started yelling, "No No No!" haha they had no idea what it was, and they were terrified of it.
We drew some pictures, played some soccer in the front yard, danced like maniacs, and ate some beans.
I love beans.
They are so delicious.
We had so much fun.
I took them back on a piki, all four of us and the driver, so five people total on one motorcycle. As we were driving up the hill to Danita, I could see all the beautiful trees with their purple blossoms and the big blue sky, open and full above me; the contrast between the dark color of their little hands in mine below. I was so full of love, I absolutely adore them. For a moment I was so afraid.
Loving is scary.
This is a lesson I have been learning for these last three months, in more ways than one and, actually, I feel like I have been learning it my whole life. There is so much I want to say to you.
I wish I could explain myself better, but as you know, these little symbols that represent words, that are supposed to represent thoughts and feelings, they often fall so short. I keep reminding myself, in time.
When we love, we give.
We become vulnerable, the other person/people have the power to accept or deny the love that you are extending. It is so funny to me that a little nine year old African girl has a piece of my heart in her hands, this little one has the power to accept or deny me, my love for her.
When I stare into this computer screen at those words, immediately I think of Christ. I am reminded of His love for me. For so long I have wondered, "Why!?" why does He love me so much, I understand that God IS love, and all He does IS love but why me? What have I done?
Nothing.
That's the beauty in it, we've done nothing.
Nora didn't really DO anything to make me love her so much, she was just herself, and I was so drawn to her, for no particular reason really.
That's scary.
The idea that we can grow to love someone so much, a " perfect stranger" even, or someone who doesn't even speak the same language, or is 40 years older than you, to have such a deep deep love for them, a need to give of ourselves to that person, protect, care for, encourage, walk with and pray for that person, we consider that person "ours" even, I say, "MY Nora" or "MY love", "MY friend", for no reason other than because that person IS that person, if they TRIED to make us love them, it would all be ruined.
1 Peter 4:8
Above all, LOVE EACH OTHER DEEPLY, because love covers a multitude of sins.
There's nothing I could do to make God love me more.
The love of Christ, the love he asks us to give other people.
Its so elementary but I JUST grasped it.
I think.
That's scary.
I am completely powerless in this situation.
I have no control.
But there is freedom in this.
And I am not afraid.
"I want to skip like a stone from a stronger arm
Each one I throw is moving somewhere
Oh, let me go
I will go out, out, out, out
Past these yellow ropes
I am not afraid"
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