Growing Daisies

I’ve been reading a book called Images of Pastoral Care: Classic Readings.  It’s a compilation of essays written by ministers, and other professionals on the ministry of mental health.  I have found it altogether very interesting, and wanted to post a few snippets of an essay written by one of the more well-known contributors, the late Henri Nouwen:

Therefore I would like to voice loudly and clearly what might seem unpopular and maybe even disturbing: The Christian way of life does not take away our loneliness; it protects and cherishes it as a precious gift.  Sometimes it seems as if we do everything possible to avoid the painful confrontation with our basic human loneliness, and allow ourselves to be trapped by false gods promising immediate satisfaction and quick relief.  But perhaps the painful awareness of loneliness is an invitation to transcend our limitations and look beyond the boundaries of our existence.  The awareness of loneliness might be a gift we must protect and guard, because our loneliness reveals to us an inner emptiness that can be destructive when misunderstood, but filled with promise for him who can tolerate its sweet pain.  When we are impatient, when we want to give up our loneliness and try to overcome the separation and incompleteness we feel, too soon, we easily relate to our human world with devastating expectations.  We ignore what we already know with a deep-seated, intuitive knowledge-that no love or friendship, no intimate embrace or tender kiss, no community, commune or collective, no man or woman, will ever be able to satisfy our desire to be released from our lonely condition.  This truth is so disconcerting and painful that we are more  prone to play games with our fantasies than to face the truth of our existence.  Thus we keep hoping that one day we will find the man who really understands our experiences, the woman who will bring peace to our restless life, the job where we can fulfill our potentials, the book which will explain everything, and the place where we can feel at home.  Such false hope leads us to make exhausting demands and prepares us for bitterness and dangerous hostility when we start discovering that nobody, and nothing, can live up to our absolute expectations (p.78).

In no way does Nouwen advocate against the need for relationships, but what he does is point out how to enter them as a person of wholeness.  When we have a deep understanding of ourselves, and our true nature then we can meet others deeply and guide them to deeper understandings of themselves.  He talks about how we create a “space” in ourselves, out of humilty and not out of self-pity, that invites others to be themselves around us.  I think, on some level, he is also saying that through this process we are freed up to get out of the way to minister to others.  It isn’t about self-reliance, but rather it is about fully understanding loneliness as a condition common to all men and to use this understanding to connect with and help other people. 

Nouwen’s words ring true in the silence of waiting rooms, at the table for two in the restaraunt, in homes all across the world.  As a person who represents hundres of thousands of singles I can say that I find some comfort in Nouwen’s words.  I’ve been in loneliner places in my life than what I found myself at the present.  I can see the loneliness in the eyes of dear friends, single and married, widowed and divorced, professionals and ministers.  It’s the “common enemy” of humanity, and how people deny it is evident by their means of suppressing it’s reality.

But our hope is in Christ, who, as the writer of Hebrews says,

14Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. 15For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. 16Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (4:14-16)

Christ experienced a loneliness that we will never understand, but in turn He does understand ours.  May we meet each other in our time of need with humility and compassion, not with all the answers, but with an understanding.

It’s Tuesday night, and Im walking down the hall of the third floor of Henderson. Ive just left my Creative Writing class, and the stale, musty smell of the building hangs in the air. As I head for the double doors at the end of the hall I can hear the mummur of another class still in progress. I linger for a moment against the hall to catch the sound of a video the class is viewing. Some preacher is talking about God’s love and the forgiveness found in Christ. I head through the doors, walking down the three flights of stairs that will talk me to the level floor. When I walk outside I am suddenly engulfed by the cool, brisk fall air. It’s night, and I can vaguely make out some of the stary sky that has escaped the light population given off by scattered lamps on campus. Down the hill to my left is the three story Psychology building all brick and stoic. In front of me several yards off is the square, brick, ironically sterile art building. Off in the distance I can hear a song being sung by strong, young voice of a guy who wants to be famous one day. His acoustic guitar echos out of the small gym, and escapes into the night air. This is a paused moment. The crispy air rushes into my lungs as I breath in deep, my ears strain to drink in the raspy melodies, my eyes hungrily search the stary sky, and my feet slowly march down the hill. It is moments like this I have learned to stop and experience them for all they are worth. Its the space and time between point A and point B. Its the time that no one, not even myself, demands anything. I shove the “shoulds” out of my mind and take the moment in. Its the scrap of space left over after a schedule has been cut out. Its in these times where I escape and find refugee. Sometimes this time looks like my long drive home from school with the windows down, the radio off, and my eyes fixated on the horizon. Sometimes this time looks like Thursday afternoon, when my school week has ended but its not quit the weekend yet. I daydream, and wonder around in my mind about my life and what it is and what it will be and what I am learning in it all. That space in between the points, that time in between time is where I recharge. Medition…slowing down…smelling the roses…whatever some one wants to call it…I crave it. And I wasnt even looking for it. It found me.

So I am at work Friday afternoon and these three guys come in. When they put down their belongs on one of the tables In notice a notebook, and two bibles. On thinline black bible, and another big, bulky study bible. They come up to the counter to order, and after some banter about one of them being a partner at Starbucks I find out that they are all on staff at a baptist church in Lexington, KY. The conversation takes off from there. We talk about how I’m pretty much Reformed but I go to a “liberal” SBC college. They talk about how they consider themselves a “little b” baptist church since they are becoming more reformed, but have a big focus on community, discipleship and outreach. We talked about how Jesus and God are not concepts, and how UK needs some reformed people to reach the campus. It was such a refreshing conversation. I left with two business cards and promised to visit their church if I was ever in the area. That was the second time in the last week that a random conversation has come up with customers at work who were solid Christians. It was exciting to talk to other believers about ministry and life after college and new things. In case I havent mentioned it I am so ready to graduate. Im like a salvating congregant at a church potluck.
On a side note Ive been holed up in drive-thru at work for far so long that I forgot about the beauty of cafe service. I like working drive-thru on a morning shift, because all the regulars come through. There is a great sense of pleasure to make a personal connection with some one, because you know excatly what they are going to order. But these last few days Ive enjoyed the people walking through the front door, even if they do get pissy with me because we dont have free Wi-Fi. Yes, there is a Starbucks in existence that does not have Wi-Fi. That is the Starbuck’s trivia for the day.
In related news…we have internet and cable at our house. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow…” The house is almost in order. My room is more functional, and for the first time in years all my books are out in broad daylight. They are like my little children, all lined up against the wall for me to look gazingly at. Yeah, no bookshelf yet. Im still the lazy one in this roommate relationship, but I did clean the apartment on Friday. Mmmmm…..Pine-Sol.

Moving is in full swing. I took two car loads today to the house compared with the roommate’s, five loads? Clearly Im the slacker in this relationship. Im also the financial dependent one as well. She has…a career, and a sweet paycheck. I have $20 of gas in my car to last me until Friday, and that was made possible by a random donation to a friend who then gave it to me. (I mean Ill get tips tomorrow from work, but that will go to a little something called groceries.) God is awesome in His, but He sure does stress me out sometimes.
So, I forgot how totally stoked I am about our cute house. We have a good size yard with trees perfect for sitting underneath on cool fall evenings and for hanging a hammock in. We have a beautiful view of the mountains, and I cant wait to look out one of the two windows in my bedroom to see fall’s colorful desplay of change. Our living room and kitchen are just one big, open room and it feels so great. We have close neighbors that include goats, and cats roaming around. Rent is so affordable for a house and I have the best roommate. I really don’t know how I got so lucky.
Work is going well except for the occasional lack of hours. But tonight was one of those shifts where I left feeling engergized. A borrowed partner was my closing shift, and she totally knew Jesus. Her, her husband, myself, and a customer got into a frenzy of a conversation towards the end of the shift. The customer happened to be a professor at a colleg in VA and he was Christian as well. He talked about presenting at Oxford, and hearing Tony Campolo speak there as well. Lots of great energy, conversation and seeing how God beautiful orchestrates the many details of our lives. I got so excited just hearing all the connections and stories of school, places and areas of study. People and their stories energize me anyways, but this particular set of stories and people was especially refreshing tonight.
At one point of the conversation the Professor Customer said, in response to my apparent admiration of his Oxford experience, “You could present at Oxford!” Im thinking…Me? Yeah right. Let me just tell you all about my insecurities as a student and how I barely have a 2.89 GPA. Blah blah blah.
What excited me though was this: God’s plans for me and my life are bigger and better than I can ever dream up. I never wanted to go back to college, and here I am eleven weeks away from getting my B.A. (Sometime I will blog about how much college has radically changed me, and proved me wrong in so many ways about what I thougth it really couldnt do.) I have all sorts of dreams for my life after graduation. Dreams that fill me with so much excitement. I think that energy is what is going to get me through this last semester. But the reality is that the best dreams and plans I can have for myself pale in comparison to God’s plans for me. A lot of times it’s hard to obediently submit my dreams to Him and genuienly, loving say “Whatever, Lord. Whatever Your will.” But I look back at just the last four years only to see how great His plan has been so far for me, so why wouldnt my future be great. A future of uncertainty circumstantially, but a future full of opportunities to know God even better and to look more like Christ. Because while I can be a bratty, fussy child of God in the end I know all that is is for my good. Maybe I will go on to get my Master’s and even PhD (What?) and present at some prestigious school ike OXford. Maybe I will be a missionary in Romania or Spain. Maybe I will be a worship leader at some church. Maybe I will get married and have a bunch of kids. Maybe I will do all of it. Maybe I will do none of it and I will do something I havent even thought of. Which is totally possible. Because I never even thought about asking the girl I am living with now if she needed a roommate a couple months ago. That was some one else’s idea. And I never thought I about moving into a cute little house with her. That was her idea. And I never thought about going back to college, or moving to TN, etcetera, etcetera.

Sleep in.

Miss class.

Iced Coffee.

Miss coworkers.

Study Greek.

House Codes.

Liberate Paul.

Liberate Women.

Liberate Self.

Hug professor.

In theory.

Take test.

Lead group.

Be led.

Hear stories.

Feel hearts.

Grow closer.

Drive home.

See friends.

Long time.

Struggling marriage.

Struggling self-esteem.

Need Savior.

Christ Jesus.

Past relationships.

Need healing.

Visit cafe.

Feel comfy.

See friends.

See crush.

Be funny.

Not overbearing.

Come home.

Cat Stevens.

Surf net.

Journal some.

Bed time.

My fourth grade teacher’s name is Ms. Johnson.  Her black hair is cut like a boy’s but has flecks of grey like my gramma.  Her pointy nose squints at me when she is telling me I am in trouble.  She is about as tall as me, but I am pretty tall for my age.  She also gets right in my face, too.  I think she does that, because we are almost the same height.  I know she is the boss of me at school.

“Law-cy, I’m gonna send home a note to your paw-rents today…aw-gain.”  Its sounds as if there is a muscle in her mouth that doesn’t want to work.  She tells the class at the start of the school year that she is from Louisana, so I guess that explains it.

It a note is going home this means my name is on the board with three checks by it.  My name is usually the only name on teh chalkboard, but sometimes it’s not the only name.  If there is another name up there it’s usually a boy’s name, because most of the girls in my class are good and well behaved.

When she tells me I am getting a note sent home not only do I get a note, but I have to eat my lunch in detention.  Sometimes I hate eating my lunch in there, but sometimes it’s not so bad.  Ms.  Hannah is the teacher who has lunch detention duty.  I don’t think I ever see her around school except when I have detention.  She’s prettier than Ms. Johnson with her long, shinny brown hair and brown eyes.  She is so tall and skinny that I bet she is from another country, like Italy.  When we eat lunch in there is feels like a cave.  Mr.  Hannah keeps teh lights off and the air condition is always on really high.  “Lacy, you have lunch detention again?”  I nodd.  “Why can’t you just be quiet?”   All I would do was shrug.  I didnt understand why eating my lunch in there was suppose to keep me from not talking in class.  Maybe if I could talk during lunch detention I wouldnt have to talk the rest of the day.  

The only thing I liked about detention was having an excuse to not eat lunch with the other kids.  They make fun of me all the time, because I talk so much in class.  They like to give me nicknames like ‘motor mouth’ or diagnosis me with some mental disorder, telling me I need drugs.  I can’t help it most of the time, and if they knew how much I wish I would just be the quiet kid.

I get the same thing when I get home from school.  When I hand my mom the note, she immdiatley replies, “Why can’t you just keep your damn mouth shut in class?”  I shrugged, holding back tears.  “You run that mouth of yours all the damn time.  You’re grounded for two weeks.”  Good, I thought.  I dont want to hang around anyone anways.  I like my room just fine and no one there calls me a ‘motor mouth’.  She’ll tell my dad, but he’ll either repeat what she said orn ot say anything at all.

My mom will sign the note and send it back with me to school, proving that she saw it.  Im sure Ill get another one again though.  Thats for certain. 

“You lived in Antarctica?”  I asked.

“Yeah, for about fifteen months.  You get a little weird after living in Antarcitca for fifteen months”  Faith chuckled as she said this.

“Weird?  How so?” 

“Well, you recognize people by their smell.  You see, there are no smells in Antarctica, because there is just ice and water.”

“So your sense of smell is stronger?”

“Well, there are no competing smells, so you could recognize other people by their smell.  You could also tell people by their walk, and their shuffle.  When you live in such a close community of 200 to 1200 people, depending on the time of year, you become a little weird.”

“Wow.  That is weird and so interesting.”

“Yeah.  One of my favorite memories was riding the cargo boat.  You’re just out there on the water, but the water doesn’t make a lot of noise.  There are these big sheets of ice, and iceburgs that are in and on the water.  It was so beautiful, and there was a stillness there I had never experienced before ever.  Just this peaceful, and quite stillness.”

  ”Faith” is tall, blonde, beauty, a wife, a mother, and full of so many stories like her life in Antarctica and being in a rock band when she was younger.  I have the privilage of working with her sometimes at, and when I see her I take every opportunity to ask her about her life.  When I took a three week May Term class last month called “zoology” I had some frustrating moments.  At the most frustrating times I was asked to sing along to a video, and draw pictures of bugs.  At the most enjoyable moments I was learning about places I had never been like the Galapagos Islands, and, Antarctica.  “Faith” did what class could not do, and that was brought Antarctica as close to me as I can get without going there.

I read the Chronicles of Narnia for the first when I was 27, which was last year.  One of my favorite books in the Chronicles would be Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  Its this fascinating tale about a trip the main characters take to all these islands, and learn about the kings of old.  There is a cousin named Eustace whose allowed to go on the trip despite the fact that he is an annoyance to all around him.  While on this trip Eustace receives his own, personal encounter with the Lion Aslan.  Eustace, at one point, goes to sleep as a boy and wakes up as a dragon.  He’s this huge, scaly reptile, and none of the kids know what to do.  Eustace is feeling helpless, faithless and fearful.  His only hope is Aslan, because as much as Eustace scratches the scales they don’t come close to shedding off.  Aslan comes along, and uses His lion-claws to cut off the dragon skin.  He throws Eustace into this pool of water, and Eustace is made whole again.  

It’s rather odd to say that I connected with a boy who was turned into a dragon in a children’s book, but I did.  Around the same time I was reading the Chronicles I was experiencing some things being “cut off” and being ripped out of my life.  I didn’t suffer relational losses, or deaths of friends or family.  I did experience a dying to self, and a sense of salvation lost.  Of course I don’t believe, theologically, that you can loose your salvation, but I did loose it in a sense.  God was ripping away all the things I had placed my salvation in:  my theology, opinions, church background, experience, ideas, everything but Christ.  I had surrounded myself, clothed myself, and identified myself more with my career as a Christian (my dragon, if you will) than I did with Christ Himself.  So when those things were being taken away I experienced a sense of salvation lost, but it wasn’t true salvation.  The Gospel is the story of redemption, and the restoration of God’s people to Himself.  Christ is our only hope, and salvation. 

New Skin

By R. D. Helmick

Vr1.

Tears in his eyes

Underneath the moonlight (light)

Tried to shed for the third time

It didnt reach the inside (inside)

Ch.1

The thoughts in his heart had

Transformed his outside

Eustace has become a dragon

A dragon by the sea

Vr.2

Many I have too shed

Will this process ever end (end)

Tears in my eyes

Underneath the moonlight (light)

Ch.2

These thoughts in my heart have

Taken over the inside

I have become like Eustace

A dragon by the sea

Vr.3

Aslan the Lion said,

“I can make you a boy again (again)

You will have to let me

Undress you with my claws (claws)”

Ch.3

The cut went so deep he thought

“It went straight to my heart”

Dark skin was on the ground

And Eustace the boy was found

Ch. 4

I too have seen this Aslan

This lion and His claws

He’s cut away everything

So I can only cling to the cross

He’s cut away everything

So I can only cling to the cross

Tears in our eyes

Underneath the moonlight (light)

I keep putting off blogging, because I wanted to do more than just write a second post.  There were few things I want to do to “beef” this thing up so when all two of you who come here to read this it isnt just two posts to read.  However, if I wait until I have the time to post all the entries I want to post before I start to regularly blog again then another year will go by, and another layer of dust will have collected. 

I just moved about a week ago back into my old apartment complex.  Its great to be back here and even though its not the exact apartment I use to live in it still has that familiar, homey smell.  I moved in with a girl from church who somewhat reminds me of one of my old roomamte I had four years ago.  Slender, brown eyed, interesting, sophisticated women who have no clue how beautiful they really are inside and out.  They define in my mind what a young, single, professional woman’s life should look like,   On the outside at least. 

When I lived here four years ago I was just beginning my college career.  It was the Spring of 2005.  I was 25, nervous, scared, anxious, insecure, and doubtful.  Like Moses and the Israelites leaving Egypt, I was afraid God wasnt going to come through for me in this academic wilderness that He called me out to.  I was suppose to work, go to school full time, study, have a life, and pay bills.  I also had to overcome my past and  the belief that I wasn’t good at school, and that I really wasn’t that smart.  I was just sure the worst was going to happen.  I had heard God wrong, I wasn’t cute out for school, and I would fail.

Now I stand at the end of this journey.  Its almost fall of 2008, and I graduate in fifteen weeks.  I changed my majors, changed my address, changed my mind, changed my theology, changed my hair, and now I see a changed heart.  This long season has been full of faithful building and discipline.  School has taken precident for the last four years, and I have died several deaths to submit my will to it.  I have sacrificed, cried, been discouraged, complained, and almost quit several times. 

The reality is it was not really about school.  I mean Ill have a degree in December, and a head full of more knowledge, dreams, and ideas thatI never thought were possibly, but the bigger picture is this.  I am very stubborn, strong-willed, prideful….sinful.  I like to be right, and subtly prove people wrong even when I dont realize that is my motive.  I want my way, my dreams, and my life yet it is not mine.  School has been the holy rod in my life that has broken me before the Lord several times over to bring me to a place of submission before Him.  It’s been one of the most loving times of my life.   Hebrews 12:6-8; 10 says this:

       You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin; you have forgotten the exhortation which is addressed to you as sons, ‘My Son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor faint when you are reproved by Him’ for those whom the Lrod lvoes He disciplines, and He scrourges every son whom He receives’.  It is for discipline that you endure; God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father does not discipline?……but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness.

When people in my past and present encouraged me to go to school I was against it.  They said it would open doors, and get me a good paying job.  I said I couldnt sit in a classroom for four years just to get a paycheck, and college degrees didn’t always mean you knew what you would do for the rest of your life.  In the end I think everyone was right.  College did, and might do what people said it would, but I went out of obedience to the Lord. 

At the beginning of Hebrews 12 Paul gives this great little pep talk about finishing the race appointed to us, to rid ourselves of sinful hindrences, and to “…fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of faith…”  Such words beckon me as I stand on the shore of school, and the waves of homework come crashing against my chest.  It’s one thing to know God changes us, but quiet another to see when He is doing it.  What grace and mercy.  Hope and encouragement.

Coffee shops are quiet the phenomenon.  They have essentially become the non-alcoholic watering hole of social activity.  It use to be a local bar like “Cheers” where everyone knew your drink and name.  You met up with friends, and you hung out for hours.  Coffee shops, in particularly Starbucks, has found a similar niche during the day.    Baristas are bartenders, locals become regulars, and a subculture is born. 
At the two Starbucks that Ive worked at there is the same “Cheers” community.  You have your morning crew on their way to work or school, the midday peeps getting that post lunch fix, and your night time crowd hanging with friends.  After working a mere nine months I am completely immersed in this ecclectic community.  Baristas and regulars from all different backgrounds, ages, cultures, and genders form a sort of pseudo-family. 
   I have found myself graciously accepted and apart of this family.  Connections have been made, friendships are growing, and I am constantly learning more and more of their stories.  Its been a nice surprising “benefit” of the job.  When I step back and reflect about it I realize two things about this subculture.  The first is the pressing reality that people are dying to be known.  Regardless of how they go about it or who they’re trying to be,  people long for relationships.  I see people linger for hours at work or come back multiple times a day just for that personal contact.  My coworkers crack jokes, and tell stories, but there is more behind it all.  There is an emptiness devoid of life and joy.  I totally identify with this in that I too long to be known, but I, who knows truth, struggle to not pull away from relationships.  As believers, our relational needs stare us in the face every day.  For the person who does not know Chirst it is an even lonelier world out there in the baren wasteland of our culture.   Most of my friends are ones with people I have met through church or some ministry.  My resource for deep relationships is plentiful and I am constantly around people who really know me. 
   The second thing I notice is that my coffee shop friends have had really negative perceptions of Christians.  I have many conversations about why Christians rip people off, or why people go around claiming to be Jesus, or just questions about God in general.  As believers, we should also not be surprised by this.  We all have, at some point in our walk, done many legalistic and counterproductive things “in the name of Jesus”.  The beauty of it, however, is that those negative encounters my coffee friends have had turn out to be great opportunities for dialogue and discussion.  It’s been amazing and a blessing to have conversations over some coffee and see God at work.  I get to be part of God showing them a different sort of Jesus than they have ever known, and they get to be Jesus to me in ways they yet to even comprehend.  
   I reflect on this now, because it is the summer.  The summer is the season of ministry and college students for me.  This is absolutely my favorite time of the year, but part of me laments having to pull away from my coffee community.  Im totally not the evangelist type, but I feel a sense of commitment to some people at work.  I am now at the point in the friendship where I could call some friends up, ask them to go hang out, and maybe have some deeper conversations with them.  God doesnt need me to be there, but He wants me to be there.  He is working continuously in ways I dont even know.