Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Sacred Ground of the Beloved

Firstly, I hope you like the slightly updated look around here! I want to thank one of my best friends Blair for collaborating with me to get that fancy new header up there looking just the way I wanted it to. It's her photo and about 80% her edit. If you don't already, follow her on Instagram (@below_my_feet) for more shots that'll spruce up your IG feed with all of the ethereal nature missing in your life.

That specific shot captures what I refer to as "the edge of the abyss", where I fancy myself called by Him to meet people in search of healing. A blog post explaining more of that can be found >>here<< if you're new and intrigued.


I recently picked up a book I've been meaning to read for years called The Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen. I read most of it the night I bought it and have had tears in my eyes more than once because of it. Henri wrote this for a good friend of his who asked him to write about the spiritual life for himself and his friends, all secular entrepreneurs in New York City. It is a no-nonsense take on the spiritual side of the human condition, where Someone finds us and abides with us in our deepest parts.

Here's an excerpt that has stuck with me:

"Aren't you, like me, hoping that some person, thing, or event will come along and give you that final feeling of inner well-being you desire? Don't you often hope: 'May this book, idea, course, trip, job, country, or relationship fulfill my deepest desire.' But as long as you are waiting for that mysterious moment you will go on running helter-skelter, always anxious and restless, always lustful and angry, never fully satisfied. You know that this is the compulsiveness that keeps us going and busy, but at the same time makes us wonder whether we are getting anywhere in the long run. This is the way to spiritual exhaustion and burn-out. This is the way to spiritual death.
Well, you and I don't have to kill ourselves. We are the Beloved. We are intimately loved long before our parents, teachers, spouses, children, and friends loved or wounded us. That's the truth of our lives. That's the truth I want you to claim for yourself. That's the truth spoken by the voice that says, 'You are my Beloved.'
Listening to that voice with great inner attentiveness, I hear at my center words that say:
'I have called you by name, from the very beginning. You are mine and I am yours. You are my Beloved, in you my favor rests. I have molded you in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother's womb. I have carved you in the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace. I look at you with infinite tenderness and care for you with a care more intimate than that of a mother for her child. I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step. Wherever you go, I go with you, and wherever you rest, I keep watch. I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger and drink that will quench all your thirst. I will not hide my face from you. You know me as your own as I know you as my own. You belong to me. I am your father, your mother, your brother, your sister, your lover, and your spouse...yes, even your child...wherever you are I will be. Nothing will ever separate us. We are one.'"

That excerpt reminded me of another book called Sit, Walk, Stand by Watchman Nee, in which Nee emphasizes the necessity of spiritually resting in Christ before ever attempting work. Moving forward in that position of rest can be thought of as how you move forward in a car, sitting still but making forward progress. We must know we are accepted and justified in Him first and foremost; there is nothing to earn, there is no work to be done for those ends. That is how we experience "the Living Water" of His presence, after which we'll never thirst again, and how we can be called to "never worry about anything" (Philippians 4:6) because nothing that comes our way has the power to rob us of our identity or our rest.

I was going to go into how I've applied that truth to my own life, and perhaps encourage you to do the same, but the more I wrote the less I felt movement behind it, so I'm stopping there. Lord knows I didn't need help deciding how those truths should hit my heart. So take them as you wish, and pull me aside to talk about them if you feel like working it out more.

In the meantime, rest. Even in your chaos.

Pay attention to the voice that rarely calls glamorous attention to itself. That's where these truths are.

And sit with your innermost self, taking note of your own body-to-soul conversations, and Who is there with you in those depths.

I wholeheartedly believe that to be the sacred ground of His true work on this earth.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

"Why burn poor and lonely?"

A common theme I find in conversations I have with friends, all of us now in our mid to late twenties, is a romanticized cherishing of some era that has now past in our lives. The range of time differs for everyone, but the common thread is that we all felt so much more present in those years than we do in our lives now. We felt more fully known, more fully expressed, more fully alive.

"I haven't felt like myself in five years."

"That was the one place that has ever really felt like home."

"No one has really loved me that deeply since then."

I'm right there too. For me, those years were 2004-2006. Life wasn't perfect; if anything it was one of the hardest times living in my home. But I was in a youth group that loved me so deeply and taught me so much. I had wonderful friends who worshipped with me and laughed with me and did real talk with me. I shared a love with a boy that was one for the books, a love I haven't seen the likes of since. And to top it all off, some of the best music I have ever experienced was being created and performed in those years, some of which I believe I owe my sanity to. Very few bands have hit my heart like the bands of that era.

Ten years later, and my life is unrecognizable, other than my relationship with God. New old friends, new NEW friends, a new city, college come and gone, life-changing memories come and gone, chapters and chapters and chapters of my life now in the past. I can't begin to tell you how much I love my life, and how blessed I feel to have walked every step of it.

But damn. I'd be lying if I said I felt 100% at home anywhere in that decade. It always felt like someone was missing who I wished I could tell my stories to. Like I was lacking resolve. Like I was experiencing life, but never resting in it. Like I was traveling and having a wonderful time doing so, but I'd left people behind or had people ahead of me who were missing out. It felt like I was a widow rebuilding my life in the wake of a loss, my late husband being an entire community and a timeless romance that slipped through my fingers. People have known me and loved me in that decade and vice versa, but never in quite the same way. Somewhere along the way there was a line drawn in the sand between Before and After, and I have always been aware of that line, even a decade into living in the After. My relationships in this After space have been informed by my life in the Before, my ever-increasingly romanticized ideal state of existence. "This reminds me of how things used to be, so that's a good sign." "They remind me of so-and-so, and I LOVED that person, so I'm getting close."

Like pictures and artifacts that people collect and save to remind them of their own story, and who's loved them. I tote these memories along with me everywhere like an anchor keeping me from some form of "unbeing".

I have longed for the day when my life feels like it is fully mine again, with everyone present who needs to be, and I can bury those memories respectfully. Then have the freedom to run around without that baggage, and "use both hands" in engaging with life, and be present NOW. Letting this moment and these people move me like I used to allow to my past moments to do.


Enter: mewithoutYou





This is one of the bands I mentioned that I have to thank for so many aspects of how I look at the world and how I approach my walk with Christ. They were a mentor, a friend, a musical therapy for me. Specifically their record Catch For Us the Foxes. It contains some of the most honest writing I've ever heard.

I saw them live twice during that cherished era of mine. One of those shows was in 2005 and entailed the entirety of that record performed, and I went with my most beloved humans. It is a specific memory I've held onto that captures the magic of my life back then musically and relationally. I was on cloud nine.

Enter: A decade later in the After space, new to Nashville, new everything, in the wake of closed doors and at the threshold of new ones to open.

mewithoutYou is on a ten-year anniversary tour of Catch For Us the Foxes, and they played in Nashville last night. I knew it would be great. But I didn't know it would catalyze the change that it has.

For starters, everyone in the place was in their mid-twenties or older. Which makes sense, given how old the album is. The opening bands got the casual attention most opening bands get at shows, so no surprise there. But the moment mewithoutYou were on stage and began the intro to "Torches Together" the place exploded. You could smell the catharsis in the air. You could feel how influential this record had been on every single human in the room. Not a soul was standing still. And there's something about yelling raw and honest words that helped you love your God as a kid, along with everyone else in the room doing the same thing, that feels a whole lot like worshipping together. Every single one of us a completely different person than who we were when we first fell for this album, maybe a bunch of us not caring for the Christian notion of how God interacts with us, but every single one of us yelling the likes of "we all have our beliefs, but we don't want our beliefs...God of Peace, we want You" with our entire being, moving to the haunting riffs and syncopated drumming mewithoutYou has mastered. I found myself grinning through the entire show because I knew on an elemental level that we were all celebrating the times of life this band had been part of in our stories. We were all celebrating what "home" had been for us.

I thought about the people I'd seen them with ten years ago, thought about where they are now and where I am now. The same songs, the same humans on a stage in front of me, the same feeling of being alive, but without those souls at my side.

I felt the smallest sensation of you can let go now. those times were beautiful. but so are these times.

Perhaps what makes our younger days feel so much more vibrant is that we lived without question or hesitation. We had nothing substantial to compare it to. Life was life, and we lived it, and everything since has felt like a comparison to that freedom.

But we are always that free.

Life is always worth fully engaging in, and we'll never fully understand why until we're in it and we discover its worth for ourselves. So BE HERE. NOW.

I think I'd been waiting for someone to rescue me from an underwater state, pulling me to the surface, and suddenly I'd be able to fully live.

Last night, in contrast, was a gentle tap on the shoulder and the notion of "Did you know you can swim?" If I am under water, I have been choosing to be there. The surface has been worth my time all along. We all get older and have more complexities in our hearts, more stories to tell and more scars to heal, but that doesn't take away from our ability to fully be with one another. If anything, it enhances it. If anything, our interactions here in the After space can be even more beautiful and meaningful than before the pain.

Healing and growth happen over time and in waves. But this is a wave long awaited for, and I am already feeling the freedom I've been longing for. The burying of the old and the full awareness of the now.

Once again, mewithoutYou has helped me know myself and know Him deeper.

Typical.


So nevermind our plan-making
We'll start living
Anyway, aren't you unbearably sad?
Then why burn so poor and lonely?
We'll be like torches, we'll be like torches
We'll be like torches
We'll be torches together, torches together
(Torches together, hand-in-hand)