wilderness retreat

I didn’t know people sponsored programs such as this one but my neighbor just referred me to the wilderness retreats that Fred does. He is Orthodox and the following sites are a part of his ministry and work.

http://www.antiochian.org/SOYO/wilderness

http://www.nrpe.org/profiles/profiles_vi_C_19_01.htm

I highly recommend the retreat of solitude. I tried it a few years ago. I didn’t have anything to go on other than this unquenchable need to be alone with God. So I ignored everything people were trying to say to me. I got into my junker truck and drove for 5 days straight, stopping only to sleep and eat a bit.

In the desert, as I was detoxing from my life, as the sun went down on the Mojave—a cascade of emotions washing over me: confusion, fear, exhaustion, dehydration, loneliness, effects of exploitation and fear of stranger.

I opened my Bible and began reading where I first put my finger…

The familiarity of the passage caught me by surprise. Its meaning was enriched as I recalled the exegetical paper I had done on this passage some time past.

Psalm 102

1 Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry for help come to you. 2 Do not hide your face from me when I am in distress. Turn your ear to me; when I call, answer me quickly. 3 For my days vanish like smoke; my bones burn like glowing embers. 4 My heart is blighted and withered like grass; I forget to eat my food. 5 Because of my loud groaning I am reduced to skin and bones. 6 I am like a desert owl, like an owl among the ruins. 7 I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof. 8 All day long my enemies taunt me; those who rail against me use my name as a curse. 9 For I eat ashes as my food and mingle my drink with tears 10 because of your great wrath, for you have taken me up and thrown me aside. 11 My days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass.

12 But you, O Lord, sit enthroned forever; your renown endures through all generations. 13 You will arise and have compassion on Zion, for it is time to show favor to her; the appointed time has come.

I was strangely filled, as the stars popped out to hang over my shoulders.

when tempted—engage strategically

I’ve been contemplating strategies and spiritual disciplines when encountering temptation. I was at a stand still over two different approaches. One is on the opposite of the continuum from the other: you can either face temptation like an animal stalking its prey or run for your life. We hear of the nobility and honorableness of the later one quite often—or at least I have in the more fundamental circles. Joseph’s response to the temptation of Potiphar’s wife is their showcase story. Joseph is the hero. He resisted valiantly, leaving his coat behind in order to escape temptation and was falsely accused and thrown into jail. It was the best case scenario for the situation. Or is it?

I’ve noticed a different approach. And I think I prefer it. Two of my mentors have talked about in different ways. One says, “lean into your fear.” The other often said, “Don’t run from a temptation—look it square in the eyes and then walk toward it, purposefully.” Over come it—don’t run away.

It stands to reason. If one avoids tempting situations, one can spend their entire life walking around tempting situations. It seems a very encumbered existence to walk around things all the time. Wouldn’t it be better if that tempting thing no longer had a leash on you? How does that happen? Jesus gives us an example of how to overcome temptation, with his desert experience. He confronts it with authority and with truth (Scripture).

I’ve also read an Eldridge book recently. His advice concurs. When Satan brings a situation of temptation into our lives—that very moment is a possibility for victory. We are not to run from it, for it is our big chance, it is our possibility for victory over the temptation. It is a matter of perspective—Is the glass half full or is it half empty? Is this your opportunity to set a precedent for overcoming this temptation or is it the moment to again bow to the temptation’s power over you?

The question Eldridge answers is, how does temptation not become temptation anymore? How does that addiction dissipate? How can one suddenly give a decided, “no” to something that once held him/her over the barrel.

Healing.

It’s so simple but obscure and nonsensical to most. Healing is the answer. We are inexplicably drawn to/attached to the things that have hurt us deeply. Those incidents are written onto our souls. We grasp for salve that would heal us, but Satan stands there offering us salt for our wounds. We long for healing so much that we trick ourselves into believing that the bowl of salt is the salve. And we take it and apply it, only to come away with more pain in the same wound. The boy who broke up with me. And the boys who continue to break up with me. The friend who betrayed me. And the friends who continue to betray me. The church leader who humiliated me. And the authority figures who continue to humiliate me. If I am not healed, where healing is enabled by my forgiveness of the other, then this moment of my wounding will reoccur forever, presenting itself as a temptation to sin--forever.

Behind every temptation there is a wound. And behind every wound there is Jesus waiting to heal. Encountering the temptation involves an authentic encounter with the fears and terrors of one’s past woundings.

Therefore, lean into your fear. Grab your temptation by the horns and in the power and strength that God gives you—be an overcomer.

Gen 21:14 Early the next morning Abraham took some food and a skin of water and gave them to Hagar. He set them on her shoulders and then sent her off with the boy. She went on her way and wandered in the desert of Beersheba. 15 When the water in the skin was gone, she put the boy under one of the bushes. 16 Then she went off and sat down nearby, about a bowshot away, for she thought, "I cannot watch the boy die." And as she sat there nearby, she began to sob. 17 God heard the boy crying, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, "What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. 18 Lift the boy up and take him by the hand, for I will make him into a great nation." 19 Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. So she went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink.

spiritual nutrition

Give yourself what you need to live well, so you don’t begin to lust after the counterfeits.

There is an understanding nutritionists often implement when dealing with “random” cravings people sometimes get for foods that aren’t good for them. People tend to believe their cravings are random or bad habits or something of that nature. Often that’s part of the deal. Yet, there is a reason behind every craving. The answer is found in satisfying that craving with the best available. For random potato chip and French fry cravings, often it is the essential oils that run missing from a daily diet and the body will make do with the other oils we feed it by demanding McDonalds too often. Sometimes we beat ourselves up over the helpless cravings which seem to randomly call our names and render us helpless. Yet I don’t think it is random. Things call our name for reasons. It is how we respond that makes all the difference about whether we will live well or die early.

I often carry a bag of apples in my car. Apples expand in your stomach and help you feel full. I found that too often I would be driving somewhere and suddenly I’d be hungry and everything along the road would look fabulously delicious.

Food addictions are somewhat the same as nutrition deficiencies, but more complex. Instead of nutritional deficiencies being to blame, psychological and emotional wounds feed these addictions.

I used to like water. It was like sunlight. You take it for granted until suddenly it’s dark. You see, it was sort of like one day it started getting darker. And every day it got progressively darker until...suddenly...I realized—it was dark.

The same thing happened with the water. It was a part of basic existence. Then, I started to drink those sweet drinks they offered me. I liked the taste. They were my treat. But some time later, I noticed I wasn’t drinking water anymore. I decided I would drink only water again but I forgot how.

Mom's Handiwork

About 33 years ago my mother began her career in raising 10 children. It was quite the adventure, as I recall. Never a dull moment. 33 years later my parents are going through the empty nester life stage, with only my youngest brother living at home. What do they do? Well, my father does what he always did, build stuff, fix stuff, plant, harvest, milk cows. And in the evening, he relaxes in his easy chair and reads. The house can fall down around his ears and he’ll still sit in that chair reading. But my mom—she does other things because she hasn’t convinced any of her children to come live at home again. Her latest interest has been to braid rugs, such as the one depicted above. Any time I come home she’s got several more rugs done. They are sturdy and beautiful. If anyone wants to buy a rug, let me know. I’m becoming my mom’s distributor and fair trade advocate.
Each rug is one of a kind. And my mom can even make one into the colors of your choice.

She also makes quilts. Last time I was at home she told us how she went dumpster diving outside the second-hand store for rags to put into her rug. My friends Josh and Mark have a story about dumpster diving for second hand food (read their story here)... but rescuing the twice thrown away...I struggle between two polar reactions: junior high embarrassment or perhaps awe, because it's one level more...something.

sleep deprived humor

Okay, so, it’s crunch time at work as we are gearing up for the next quarter. Since, I generally get really goofy when I am sleep deprived and everything is funny, I thought I’d share something I found really funny. This would be great YouTube material. Someone who is unemployed would have to be the actor though...cause otherwise it would be great getting fired material too.

Reasons to give when caught sleeping at work.

1. They told me at the blood bank this might happen.

2. This is just a 15 minute power-nap like they raved about in that time management course you sent me to.

3. Whew! Guess I left the top off the Wite-Out. You probably got here just in time!

4. I wasn’t sleeping! I was meditating on the mission statement and envisioning a new paradigm.

5. I was testing my keyboard for drool resistance.

6. I was doing a highly specific Yoga exercise to relieve work – related stess. Do you discriminate toward people who practice Yoga?

7. Dang! Why did you interrupt me? I had almost figured out a solution to our biggest problem. Did you know that the dude who invented the sewing machine, fell asleep from exhaustion when trying to figure out where to put the hole in the needle. He had a dream and in it he encountered the solution.

8. The coffee machine is broken…

9. Someone must have put decaf in the wrong pot…

10. …in Jesus’ name, Amen.

got personality!!??

I found this fun little personality test online. Thought I’d recommend it and show my results.

I try not to take these too seriously but am open to what God might be showing me through them. As sometimes it’s good to look into the mirror and pray about what is seen there.

Advocacy makes sense. I do a lot of that. Inventor. My grandparents and my fathers side of the family they are all inventors. I thought the masculinity/femininity measure was kinda funny—especially when a woman scores higher in the masculine than in the feminine. But I’m not surprised. And I suppose the good ol Mennonite value of functionality is a trusty pillar but, thank God, it does not banish me to the land of boredom because I’ve been blessed with an imagination.

A scripture came to me in response to my lowest score:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5, 6

If you find this fun, and take the quiz, let me know how you score.

My Personal Dna Report

uncivil discourse

So, I went to this talk at the Walker Art Center, entitled, Uncivil Discourse. It was a classy event with all the suits in the city, with appetizers and linens and an informational speech. The socializing proved profitable and a bit surprising as I met the mayor’s communications director and some infiltrators affiliated with emergent, who knew my sister. Wow! It’s a small world after all.

The talk was about the outrage industry and how they exploit the common citizen. The outrage industry is simply any public figure or organization who entices their audience into a particular perspective or action via manipulative speech or propaganda that taps into fear and anger. Those in the advertising industry know—yes, this is how it actually is supposed to work. But for those who enjoy a higher level response and interchange, realize the intellectual bankruptcy of such a response audience—indicative also of comparable low-level emotional commitment and by-in.

In the public arena issues are set up with no middle ground or trajectory for resolution. Issues are set up in a polarity that gains a figurehead or a platform political advantage. Collaboration and collective problem solving between the positions that have been framed in a polarized structure would be bad for politics. It would be bad for the outrage industry. It would be bad for me because I would have to think constructively. I would maybe have to do something more than rant and rave and beg the question. And quite frankly, I like ranting and raving. I get a high off the head trip where I eloquently tear apart someone else’s and establish how mature and intelligent I am with my alternative argument.

...okay,...back to the presentation. Those of us who are most vulnerable to being drawn by the voice that tempts our adrenaline levels. A transient existence gives us little or no context to tie us into the world of flesh and bone. Our highly mobile culture uproots us. Generally, for security we naturally choose to embrace the things that feel familiar to us. We settle into homogenous communities. We self-select our own news and information sources which feed into and affirm our set of beliefs. Ignorance, prejudice and intolerance percolate in these communities of sameness, whether they are virtual or our own special urban tribe. All we need is someone to begin yelling, “Revolution!” “Kill the non conformists” and you’ve got yourself a Darfur. (Okay that's a bit of a fast, long stretch...but you get my point)

Worst case scenario? Yes! Scare tactic used? Right again!

The speaker made some insightful observations. He gave some great back-up on historical trends which bring us to this place in time. He also gave a solution—a plug to join the organization which hosted the event. Okay so maybe he had to do that. But a few things rang true. Collaboration and working toward a solution in peace and harmony doesn’t attract attention and it doesn’t give me that rush of adrenaline. It doesn’t give me that winner’s elation once I proclaim a win over my opponent. There is something pacifistically Anabaptist about that.

Our new edition to the family. He was born to my brother and sister-in-law on March 8.

water

Peacefullady is doing musical Mondays on her site. The songs are sung in traditional four-part harmony. Everyone who’s grown up in the Mennonite community contributes to the sound, participates in the singing. Perhaps it is simply tradition. Perhaps it is simply singing. But, when all those in the community of God...sing--it becomes the unified prophetic voice of that community, into the space they occupy and beyond. It not only proclaims the Lord’s exploits to those with physical ears but demonstrates harmony of life in manner of expression, weaving beauty into the outer thresholds of being and beyond. Or... perhaps it speaks that which is not into that which is.

The second verse of I heard the Voice especially resonates with me. Go listen to it quickly, for she will be changing the song on Monday.

I Heard the Voice of Jesus say...

I begged for water for my parched lips. The heat of the day wore on. My lips scorched like a desert, bled red, as did the wounds in his hands and feet. I asked for water again. They gave me vinegar. But I drank. I drank and drank till I did not know what water was. The sun went down and rose again. They gave me water but I could not drink it.

Cuando se hablo lo escrito se pierde lo dicho.
de La Fonda Azul

lunar eclipse

Hope you all caught the lunar eclipse last Saturday, just after sundown. This was the view from my kitchen window.

pacifist does not mean passive

A while back a friend was ribbing me about not being a pacifist as I claim. He sited my not so passive manner of being as evidence.
Passive is what is expected. To a certain extent we have lived up to the label the mainstream has given us—we are passive. We are not the upsetters of the culture of violence. I ran across an article written by Albert Einstein on Pacifism. In it he calls himself a militant pacifist. And he calls others to initiate an aggressive campaign against violence.
The full article is here.

grace of being

It was a moment of crystal clear consciousness, an awareness of beauty, an engagement of total being—as I recall. I emerged as though out of a drowning bottomless eddy—numb, confused, breathing but not living.

My heart was with her, in her grave, under the headstone I had crafted. Her body was barely cold in the ground. My mind determined that I must continue to live with brute effort. To signify my resolution, I’d enrolled in a language class at the University. I would speak. I would speak even in other languages, an effort to remind myself I was still alive. I would continue to learn—to pursue my goals. I would woo my heart out of that grave, down there with her.

I was walking across the bridge toward campus, the skyline to my right, on a backdrop of the most outstanding wash of periwinkle. The air—crisp. Then it happened. Unsolicited. Unannounced. It was as though I’d walked into a pocket of pure oxygen. It was a moment of pure awareness, encounter of being...seemingly random...certainly, pure grace. I stopped in surprise. I reveled in the moment. I felt a moment of pure God.