Living Wide Open

I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.

–Dawna Markova

This poem struck me when I first read it on someone's blog, it grabbed me when I read it again today. Yes, even though I've been feeling like 'my heart's been ripped out of me' in recent weeks, I choose not to step back, recoil, stop loving, stop trusting. I must, and I will, continue to risk. Interesting how energizing it feels, to make this choice, and choose to view events this way.

Christmas Eve, Then and Now

"Then" was Mary, Joseph and Jesus, in a stable. "Now" is me in an airport. How similar? How different?

We're all on a journey, spending the night away from home in less than comfortable surroundings. Glad I'm not nine months pregnant--giving birth in such a place, and thankful that the smell here is quite...normal--no barn smells. Although I'm pretty exhausted, the rigours that have caused mine are different from theirs.

They didn't seem to complain, at least we don't hear about it. I haven't been complaining either. Kind of used to this routine. Perhaps we've all learned to trust God as the one over and above our circumstances...well, sometimes I can trust Him this way.

Mary, travelled accompanied by her loving husband, in the company of other travellers in similar situations, and in the presence of God...inside of her. I wonder if she felt like she was in the presence of God. No husband here. I am in the company of others whose flights have been delayed. I, too, travel in the presence of God, though I have had virtually no 'inspiring thoughts' or meaningful impulses. As much as I had wanted to enjoy advent meditations, and be moved and reflective, jetlag and a head cold have dulled all such thoughts. No sense of connection with God, being led by Him, or what He might be saying to me this day, at this season.

As they travelled was it in the awareness of the great purpose they were to fulfill, or just because they had to? They were aware of part of the purpose of their situation. Did they remember the Bethlehem part of the prophecies? Or did they fulfill important purposes just in the living and doing what needed to be done each day? My purpose in this trip is not nearly as grand as theirs, but theirs was for them and mine is for me. I'm aware of some of the purpose, but wonder if there might be more that I don't know.

Wishing for Extremes

Oh how I wish the answer to how to live could be found living in the extremes. This trying to figure out and then live the delicate middle is so hard--I'm so doomed to failure.

So long in this Country

I've lived in this country so long, practically all my life. I often don't really know how strange, how odd, its customs are for others. To me, some are just so basic. So...the other day I was talking to someone, and I couldn't believe it. He didn't know that we should stand up for the weak and oppressed. He didn't know that if a child was being beaten (as in violence, in anger, not restrained and limited discipline) that someone else should come to the rescue and it's a shame when no one does. Earlier we had been walking along, and he was surprised that I was noticing others around me. "And you didn't?" I said, "That woman...she was walking along crying before she turned into that house. That other woman who was shouting as the man was trying to pull her into the car..."

A few weeks ago I realized--I've been so long in this country, enjoying its benefits, that I think I take them for granted, forgetting to be grateful--to live in grace, and love, to know that there is new mercy and new strength for each day. May I never take it for granted.

And still, for as long as I've been here, and as much as the culture is part of me, there is still much that is strange, much that is not yet fully my own. While I live in such grace, I extend it as freely as it has come to me. While I am learning to understand and appreciate that the best and most real work happening within me is slow, and even though others cannot see it, it counts, and IS progress. Yet I can be so impatient with others and their battles--shouldn't they just grow faster!

The longer I live here, though, the more I like it. Love it really! The life is so much more extraordinarily free, and full, than I could have ever hoped or imagined. The options are numerous. The emotions encompass the heights and the depths. And I love that there is always HOPE--for me, for others--no matter what has happened, there is always the hope of a new life and a better future.

In this Kingdom, with this King...where else would I rather be? Except ... finally ... maybe ... a little closer.

Snail’s pace blogging

Ah...now I know, this is what I do.

Stopped…by the sound of children

Busy… anxious… intent on getting lots done
Frustrated … by all the stupid silly obstacles that keep coming up
Can’t figure out how to work better
Can’t figure out…
“oh oh… hi hi… ah ah…”
Another email. Done. Yay
Website updated. Yay
Great, I’m getting things done today.
“hi hi …. oh oh…”
I stop, open the window… look down and enjoy
Five and six year olds just out of school
walking home, backpacks on their backs
and singing…
“hi hi… ho ho…”
I don’t know what they are singing…
actually there is just one that is
but it’s beautiful
carefree
and I could be too
I could smile
I could saunter down the road
“hi hi… ho ho… ah ah…”
Who cares what else is going on
Doesn’t matter the load that is on my plate
The sun is shining
Good God up in heaven has everything under His control
And He loves me
He enjoys me
Help me to stop and enjoy this day, this life You’ve given.