Encouragement — Page 37

A Safe Place: A Deeper Story

December 9, 2013 By Diana

As I began to wade into the waters of the internet at the end of 2009 and the beginning of 2010, I wound my way over to this remarkable place called “A Deeper Story.” I was in transit at that point in my life, moving into retirement, giving up an identity I had happily filled for fourteen years as pastor and leader in my church. I wondered what was next for me, where God would have me thinking and working. And the only thing I knew, in those early days, was that I had a clear and direct call from God to write, and that call had the word ‘stories’ in it.

I’ve done a lot of exegetical, theological, spiritual and psychological work to become the person I am at this juncture of my life. And I could, if I chose to, make a good ‘argument’ for what I believe and why I believe it. But I was increasingly convinced, as I read all around the blogosphere, that I did not want to argue; I wanted to tell my story.

All of my stories, to be more precise. The fun ones, the adventurous ones, the love-filled ones — of course, yes, hooray. But I also wanted to tell the stories of wondering and wandering, of doubting and wrestling. And I wanted to read stories like that, too.

And “A Deeper Story” was the very best place I found to do that. The reading part, at least. And I read them all. Every single one.

And then, lo and behold! Just over a year ago, an invitation came for me to tell my stories in that rich space — a gift straight from the hand of God, courtesy of Megan Tietz. And this place has been a good, welcoming, wrestling place for me.

And here’s why.

All the people who write regularly or guest post at this site are starting from different places along the journey. We do not all agree on theology or politics or child-raising or any other topic you might care to mention. We do agree that we’re following hard after Jesus, and some days that’s a lot harder to do than others.

And that right there has been a tremendous gift. We care about one another, we encourage one another, we listen, we welcome. And our regular readers do that, too. The entire experience has been gift.

Right now, the site is in the midst of a pretty massive overhaul. It’s a necessary part of the growing process. And Nish Weiseth, whose brainchild ADS is, has been paying ALL of the costs connected to keeping this site going up to this point. Now, however, we’re turning a corner of sorts.

We’re growing up.

And as any parent will readily agree, growing up is expensive. So we’re asking for some help.

There is a Fundly campaign going on right now, today. And the goal is $4,000.

I am confident that the readers of ADS will help us reach that goal and, in addition, will give Nish a nice, comfy cushion to keep us afloat for a good, long time. I’ve already made a gift and may very well do so again.

Can I invite you over to the website today to read all about this from Nish’s perspective? You’ll find a link to the campaign over there.

Thanks so much for being a friend of mine and of this blog — and for following me over to ADS when one of my posts is up over there.

Filed Under: A Deeper Family, Blogging, community, Creativity, Dreams/Dreaming, Encouragement, giving, personal journey, Writing

An Advent Journey, 2013: Looking for the Light – Day Nine

December 9, 2013 By Diana

  One final word, friends. We ask you—urge is more like it—that you keep on doing what we told you to do to please God, not in a dogged religious plod, but in a living, spirited dance. You know the guidelines we laid out for you from the Master Jesus. God wants you to live a pure life.

Keep yourselves from sexual promiscuity.

  Learn to appreciate and give dignity to your body, not abusing it, as is so common among those who know nothing of God.

  Don’t run roughshod over the concerns of your brothers and sisters. Their concerns are God’s concerns, and he will take care of them. We’ve warned you about this before. God hasn’t invited us into a disorderly, unkempt life but into something holy and beautiful—as beautiful on the inside as the outside.

  If you disregard this advice, you’re not offending your neighbors; you’re rejecting God, who is making you a gift of his Holy Spirit.

  Regarding life together and getting along with each other, you don’t need me to tell you what to do. You’re God-taught in these matters. Just love one another! You’re already good at it; your friends all over the province of Macedonia are the evidence. Keep it up; get better and better at it.

  Stay calm; mind your own business; do your own job. You’ve heard all this from us before, but a reminder never hurts. We want you living in a way that will command the respect of outsiders, not lying around sponging off your friends.

I Thessalonians 4:1-12 -The Message

The psychological term is mirroring, learning from another by copying them, or saying back to them what you’ve heard, to be sure you’ve heard it right.

I think that’s what Paul is talking to the Thessalonians about in this note. “Be sure you’re mirroring God in all your actions – how you treat yourself and how you treat others. Reflect back to God what you experience, what you’re seeing, what you’re hearing.”

There is a reason that ballet studios have mirrors on all sides. When you’re learning a new dance, you need to see if you’re following the teacher, if you’re getting the steps right — yes, of course. But also, you need to know if you’re capturing the spirit of the piece, the joy of it.

Imagine that you’re dancing before the mirror, following after the Savior. Leaning over to help another stand tall, speaking softly to your neighbor, smiling kindly at yourself, when you catch a glimpse of your own face and form every now and again. The Christian journey is a dance, Paul says. Don’t let it solidify into something cold and lifeless, regimented and disciplined to death.

Simply DANCE!

Lord of the Dance, help us to keep our eyes on you, to do what you do, to say what you say. In our own unique way, of course, because that’s the truth of this life, isn’t it? When we look harder at you, we discover more about ourselves. Help us to dance well with you.

* As an added Advent bonus, I heartily recommend you click on this link and meander over to SheLoves fine post on Random Acts of Advent Kindness. I’m going to try and do this as often as possible and I encourage you all to check it out for yourselves.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, community, daily devo, Encouragement, God's gifts, prayer

An Advent Journey, 2013: Looking for the Light – Day Eight

December 8, 2013 By Diana

Out of the stump of David’s family will grow a shoot—
yes, a new Branch bearing fruit from the old root.
And the Spirit of the Lord will rest on him—
the Spirit of wisdom and understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and might,
the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of theLord.
He will delight in obeying theLord.
He will not judge by appearance
    nor make a decision based on hearsay.
He will give justice to the poor
and make fair decisions for the exploited.
The earth will shake at the force of his word,
and one breath from his mouth will destroy the wicked.
He will wear righteousness like a belt
    and truth like an undergarment.

In that day the wolf and the lamb will live together;
the leopard will lie down with the baby goat.
The calf and the yearling will be safe with the lion,
and a little child will lead them all.
The cow will graze near the bear.
The cub and the calf will lie down together.
The lion will eat hay like a cow.
The baby will play safely near the hole of a cobra.
Yes, a little child will put its hand in a nest of deadly snakes without harm.
Nothing will hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain,
for as the waters fill the sea,
so the earth will be filled with people who know the Lord.

In that day the heir to David’s throne
will be a banner of salvation to all the world.
The nations will rally to him,
and the land where he lives will be a glorious place.

Isaiah 11:1-10   -NLT

The Peaceable Kingdom, that’s what many call this passage from Isaiah 11. A picture of the future, where all of God’s creatures will live together harmoniously. Animals of every size and shape interacting peaceably with children; scorpions no longer lethal, cobras not to be feared.

And I love that imagery, too – although, to be honest — even though artists have rendered it repeatedly, I have a really hard time picturing all that wild animal/human conviviality. For me, it’s the picture in the first half of this passage that sings. That old Jesse stump, the tree from which David and then, Jesus, grew and flourished.

My spirit resonates with these lines, this picture of a righteous ruler, one who looks beneath the surface of things before pronouncing judgment. Righteousness and truth the garments nearest to his skin, closest to his person.

Yes! I love this picture. And in just the right light, I can see that this is a picture of Jesus. At least, this is one picture of Jesus. One that I like and look forward to, but one that is not yet fully realized. We still await the coming of this One, don’t we? A truly just ruler and judge, one who looks out for the needs of his people and will not abide cheating or oppressive behavior.

Can I hear an amen?

Of course, I can. We all long for such leadership, if we’re honest with ourselves and with one another. And we’re all still waiting for him to show up, aren’t we? This is the deepest layer of Advent waiting, I think. We wait for the Just One to come and make things right; we wait for justice to reign; we wait.

Lord of Righteousness, will you help us to wait with hope? To know in the deepest parts of ourselves that you are always in the process of coming to us? Help us to see you in the small victories, the short, sweet moments, even in the little ones — those small human creatures that you give to all of us. And excuse my rudeness here, but could you somehow show us your undergarments – the ones that move right next to your heart, the ones that empower you to serve the least of these? Just a flash, that’s all we need. A reminder that you’re on the throne — and yet, you stand ever ready to help us little ones see and tell the truth.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, Confession, daily devo, Encouragement, God's gifts, hope, Uncategorized, Waiting

An Advent Journey, 2013: Looking for the Light – Day Seven

December 7, 2013 By Diana

Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her that she has served her term,
that her penalty is paid,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.

A voice cries out:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of theLord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.

Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
and all people shall see it together,
for the mouth of theLord has spoken.”

A voice says, “Cry out!” And I said, “What shall I cry?”
All people are grass, their constancy is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it; surely the people are grass.
The grass withers,
the flower fades;
but the word of our God will stand forever.
Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings;
lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem,
herald of good tidings, lift it up, do not fear;
say to the cities of Judah, “Here is your God!”

See, the Lord God comes with might,
and his arm rules for him;
his reward is with him,
and his recompense before him.
He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead the mother sheep.
Isaiah 40:1-11 – NRSV

It’s a persistent image, this picture of Jesus as shepherd. It threads its way throughout the scriptures. And yet, in the reality of day-to-day living, shepherds were the least desirable of any of the citizens of 1st century Palestine. They stank of sheep, they wandered the hillsides for days, even weeks at a time, they slept out of doors, they talked to animals more often than they did to people.

And yet.

The picture of God as Shepherd of Israel is a dominant one, especially in the prophets. And Jesus himself adopts and adapts this language in John 10, referring to himself as both the gate to the sheepfold and the shepherd himself. “I am the good shepherd,” he said. “My sheep know my voice. . . ”

Somehow, it all fits beautifully with Isaiah’s word picture, here at the end of the opening verses of chapter 40. Such a rich juxtaposition – the King who comes in might, and the shepherd who gently carries the young and tends to their mothers.

I think this is deliberately meant to be a both/and kind of section, not an either/or. The Creator of the Universe, the Risen and Ascended Lord, the majestic Holy Spirit – this God of ours is powerful and great.

But this God of ours is also willing to harness all that power, to draw it all together and funnel it into the very human body of Jesus of Nazareth. The One who is gentle and humble, caring and protective, our Good Shepherd.

There are days, Lord, when I need a little gentleness, I long to be gathered up into your arms and carried in your bosom. Thank you for being willing to do those ‘smaller’ things, those gentler things, those things we need so much.

A second bonus today is this lovely recording of Handel’s setting for this reading from Isaiah.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, Encouragement, God's gifts, hope, prayer

An Advent Journey, 2013: Looking for the Light – Day Five

December 5, 2013 By Diana

Give the king your justice, O God,
    and your righteousness to a king’s son.

May he judge your people with righteousness,
    and your poor with justice.
May the mountains yield prosperity for the people,
    and the hills, in righteousness.
May he defend the cause of the poor of the people,
    give deliverance to the needy,
    and crush the oppressor.

May he live while the sun endures,
    and as long as the moon, throughout all generations.
May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass,
    like showers that water the earth.
In his days may righteousness flourish
    and peace abound, until the moon is no more.

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
    who alone does wondrous things.
Blessed be his glorious name forever;
    may his glory fill the whole earth.
Amen and Amen.
Psalm 72:1-7 18-19 – NRSV

A song for a king, written one thousand years before Jesus was born, yet somehow a song for him as well as for David. We are all ‘the needy,’ it seems to me. We need a royal visit, some patronage now and again, someone looking out for our best interests.

Is Jesus that one?

I choose to believe so, even when I’m puzzled by some of the things that happen in this world, that happen to me or the people I love. I surely don’t ‘get it’ much of the time. There are questions without answers, horrors without any visible saving grace, illness and hardship and death.

Even so, I will continue to choose this king, the one who came in squalor and loneliness, the one who doesn’t fit the job description most of us might design for a king.

Maybe that’s because we’ve got it all upside down and backwards. Maybe that’s because we are slow to know that ‘neediness’ can be defined in lots of different ways. Maybe it’s because God is in the business of standing things on their heads.

A king on a cross, that’s our story. With no political power, no financial acumen, no henchmen surrounding him to enforce whatever word he might care to proclaim. Yet he is, indeed, like “showers that water the earth,” bringing refreshment in the midst of drought, and the spring of new life to the trod-upon green.

How can this be? This kingship without the pomp and circumstance?

It’s hard for us to grasp this truth, to release our expectations and look instead for the Humble One, the Broken One, the One who was left to die on the garbage heap outside of town.

But look we must, and it starts with the simplest of things. The bloom of late roses, the angle of light across a wooden floor, the scent of sweetness on the evening breeze, if you live where I do. Where you are, it might come from the smoke spiraling up the chimney, the glistening of white on every twig, the bracing coldness of the frozen air. Small things, tiny points of light. Reminders that the King of the Universe disguises himself as a helpless newborn, spilled out onto the straw.

King Jesus! We call you that in ways we don’t begin to understand, yet we know them to be true. Remind us again of what royalty really looks like, help us to look for the rain, the moisture poured out in a dry and thirsty land. Help us to see you.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, Beauty, biblical reflection, church year, Encouragement, prayer, Uncategorized

The Many Shades of Christmas – A Deeper Family

December 4, 2013 By Diana

Have you ever noticed how many of our favorite carols are written in a minor key? Think about it for a minute . . .

“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”

“In the Bleak Midwinter”

“Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silent”

“What Child Is This?”

“Greensleeves”

“I Wonder as I Wander”

“Carol of the Bells”

“Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming”

“Coventry Carol” (“Lullay, Thou Little Tiny Child”)

These are melodically darker-hued songs, offered in a season when we are encouraged on every side to be merry, dang it! And I am more grateful than I can say for the rich texture they bring to these days before Christmas.

Why?

Because there are many pieces of this story that can only be told in a minor key.

Sometimes I think we forget that Jesus came into a broken world, that there were no colored lights, and certainly no tinsel around that hayloft. Yes, yes — the gift of the incarnation is unspeakably good, that babe whose head was cradled by his open-hearted, willing young mother, that babe brought light and hope to us all.

But in and around the lowing of cattle, the bleating of lambs, the exhausted moans of a brand-new mom and the healthy lungs of a newborn — who can forget the cries of the mothers in Ramah, the rumbling threat of Herod, the hurried flight to Egypt, or the sorrowful truth about where that sweet baby hung his beautiful head at the end of his good, good life?

The reality of life on planet earth is that even good news, the best possible news, must be told in the midst of the bad; to get to the light, we have to walk through the dark. To truly live our story, we have to tell all the pieces of it.

So I think it’s important that the sounds of sadness, the echoes of loss, the edges of fear and uncertainty, are carefully and intentionally woven into our celebrations. All the voices in this Story, and in our own stories, cry out to be heard as we move toward the manger and the major key of Christmas Day.

I know that I have lived longer than most of you who are reading this piece. And over the course of this long life, I have experienced loss upon loss, asked question upon question, and listened for the answers in the midst of silence. If there is one thing I’ve learned, one truth that stands at the top of all the truths I know, it is this one: everyone carries a story of brokenness. Everyone.

Please join me over at A Deeper Family today to read more about singing in a minor key in this ‘hap-happiest season of all . . . “

Filed Under: A Deeper Family, Advent, biblical reflection, Christmas, Church, church year, Encouragement, grief, Lament, Music, Spiritual Formation, Waiting

Ta Da! The Final Piece of the (in)Mercy Journey!

December 2, 2013 By Diana

Back in September, I was privileged to be a participant in the very first project from (in)Courage magazine’s commitment to raise funds for Mercy House in Kenya.

The beautiful brainchild of Kristin Welch and her family, this home provides safety, security, education, healthcare and spiritual input for twelve moms and their babies — beautiful babies whose lives have been saved from destruction because of this place, this house of mercy.

We had a total of FIVE projects to raise funds for – and the first four have been completely funded, with almost eight thousand dollars already raised for the last, and most ambitious of them all.

Project Number Five is a SECOND HOME, another living space for unwed moms and their babies, a sacred space where we can double the impact of this life-changing ministry

It’s a big challenge, a big idea, a GOD idea! And we believe that our goal can be met between now and Christmas. When you’re making out your Christmas lists this year, would you consider putting the (in)Courage (in)Mercy Phase Five home somewhere near the top?

For the last several years, the gift-exchange in our family of sixteen has included gifts purchased in honor of one another, with funds going to a variety of peace and justice causes around the world. Everything from our denominational catalog of gift ideas to World Vision to Heifer International. In addition, I purchase jewelry for loved ones from sources that provide a living wage to sisters living in poverty in Haiti, Mexico and Indonesia. And this year, I will also be making a donation in all of our names to this remarkable ministry.

Please check out the links below for more information about how you, too, can participate in this gift of love. I cannot think of a better way to honor that baby in the manger than to help provide care for moms and babies in Kenya.

You can make donations by clicking on this line, which will take you directly to the great people over at PureCharity, who have a video to watch, some of the most adorable photos you’ve ever seen in your life, and options for you to give for this final phase of our big fall project. What a challenge – and what a gift!

If you are interested in purchasing any of the (in)Mercy materials from Dayspring, you can find their webpage by clicking on this link.

Filed Under: (in)Mercy, Blogging, Christmas, community, Dreams/Dreaming, Encouragement, family, giving, hope, PureCharity, synchro blogs/blog hops

An Advent Journey, 2013: Looking for the Light – Day Two

December 2, 2013 By Diana

If it had not been the Lord who was on our side
—let Israel now say—
if it had not been the Lord who was on our side,
when our enemies attacked us,
then they would have swallowed us up alive,
when their anger was kindled against us;
then the flood would have swept us away,
the torrent would have gone over us;
then over us would have gone
the raging waters.

Blessed be the Lord,
who has not given us
as prey to their teeth.
We have escaped like a bird
from the snare of the fowlers;
the snare is broken,
and we have escaped.
Our help is in the name of the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
— Psalm 124, NRSV

We wait for the coming,
of the babe,
and of the Christ.
And every coming
is marked by this one thing,
this splendid, unique,
life-changing truth:
freedom.

“the snare is broken,
and we have escaped. . .”
This is the center,
the truth that holds
everything together.

The Lord is on our side.
Who could imagine?
On our side,
come what may,
even when what comes
brings heartache,
pain and fear.

And the truth is also this:
to know the unshackling,
to find the Presence,
there is only one way,
one road,
one thing required:

waiting.

It is in the waiting,
that we are changed,
we are saved,
we are made free.

Hallelujah.
Amen.

Teach us more about waiting, O Lord. We don’t like it, we resist and rebel, but oh! we must learn, we must. Thank you for forming us in this waiting time.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo, Encouragement, God's gifts, personal journey, Waiting

An Advent Journey, 2013: Looking for the Light – Day One

December 1, 2013 By Diana

There’s a day coming
when the mountain of God’s House
Will be The Mountain—
solid, towering over all mountains.
All nations will river toward it,
people from all over set out for it.
They’ll say, “Come,
let’s climb God’s Mountain,
go to the House of the God of Jacob.
He’ll show us the way he works
so we can live the way we’re made.”
Zion’s the source of the revelation.
God’s Message comes from Jerusalem.
He’ll settle things fairly between nations.
He’ll make things right between many peoples.
They’ll turn their swords into shovels,
their spears into hoes.
No more will nation fight nation;
they won’t play war anymore.
Come, family of Jacob,
let’s live in the light of God.

Isaiah 2:1-5, The Message

“All nations will river to it. . .”

Can you see it? All of humanity as a living river, ascending the Hill of the Lord to celebrate the Day of the Lord, that day when peace will reign and we will enjoy the richest of mountaintop experiences. If I close my eyes and imagine, I can make it out.

But when I return to my everyday normal, that human river seems further and further away. It feels as though we are always waiting as we live this life. From the mundane to the magnificent – we wait. . . for the dough to rise, for the sun to come out, for the sadness to lift, the questions to be answered, the sky to be rent. Because the truth of it is this: in all our waitings, we want to see Jesus.

Advent marks it out for us, this waiting. It’s a season of expectation, of longing, sometimes, of desperation. The longest night of the year happens during these weeks, ever-increasing hours of darkness punctuate the rhythm of Advent time. As we wait for Jesus to come, I find myself looking for the light, longing for it from the deep places inside my spirit. I wonder if you do, too?

If so, I invite you to ‘live in the light of God’ this Advent, to faithfully look for that light each day — right in the middle of all the hubbub, all the expectations, all the craziness. There will be some days when we’ll have to search hard to see it, but here’s the truth, here’s what I know: the light is always shining. Always. To see it requires attention and intention, a willingness to look with new eyes, and a promise to listen to the heartbeat of your life with hope and expectation. Will you come with me?

God of the Mountaintop and God of our hearts, help us to see the light of your love, even in the midst of shopping, cooking, traveling and w a i t i n g for you to come. Help us to discover you in a new way, an Advent way, as we mark off these days. Amen.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, Beauty, biblical reflection, Christmas, church year, daily devo, Encouragement, Uncategorized, Waiting

Tuesday’s Read, Read, Read! (a book review and a synchroblog to celebrate Sarah’s new book!)

November 5, 2013 By Diana

First, the book review:

Every once in a great while, a voice arises that speaks truth in love for an entire generation of Jesus-followers. Sarah Bessey is such a voice. I began reading her blog three years ago, and quickly discovered a Soul Sister. Sarah has the heart of an artist, the skill of a surgeon, and the grace of a dancer when she begins weaving words together. And she has woven them into a masterpiece with this beautiful, heartfelt, lyrical book. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

With a foreword by Rachel Held Evans and a stunning manifesto by Idelette Mcvicker leading the way, Sarah dives into her topic with an extended version of a popular blog post, “A Bonfire on the Shore.” All of us — egalitarians, complementarians, feminists, non-feminists — are invited to join her around that bonfire, to listen to one another in love and to share stories, life lessons, observations, and most especially, questions and answers that we have lived in the everydayness of life as well as wrestled with in our minds. “I want to tell the truth, but first I want to live the Truth,” she says; “I won’t confuse critical thinking with a critical spirit,” she promises.

And then she dives into the whole Big Topic, declaring that yes, she is a feminist — but only because she is following after the ways, words and actions of Jesus, her savior and friend. She is learning from Jesus what it means for each of us to be a human person, whether male or female. Never discounting the differences between men and women, Sarah makes a strong case for her position without alienating those who might disagree with her. She stakes out her place: “Patriarchy is not God’s dream for humanity. It never was; it never will be.” But she leaves room for conversation: “I don’t think God is glorified by tightly crafted arguments wielded as weaponry.”

Telling pieces of her own story all along the way, Sarah looks at the whole of scripture first, most especially at the words and work of Jesus in the gospel narratives, refusing to allow the ‘problematic passages’ to take precedence over what she sees happening in Jesus’ relationship with women. She does this, however, without ever discounting the power and authority of the biblical message. She works hard to sift out the cultural specificities from the timeless truths, always with an attitude of appreciation and respect for the Word of God.

Sarah gives testimony to the partnership she enjoys in her own marriage, making a beautifully strong case for mutual submission. She makes room for single women at the table of full-personhood without diminishing the joy she has found in being married and birthing babies. And she calls the church to open-handed, open-hearted sharing in the work of kingdom living, inviting us to reconsider traditional ‘women’s ministries’ in the light of all that needs doing in the wider world.

This is a joyful book, an honest book, a welcoming book. I don’t know if you will find yourself proudly wearing the, “I am a Jesus feminist” badge when you finish it. I hope so. But I do know that you will be glad you read this book, that you will wrestle with the questions she asks and the stories she tells, and that you will stand up and cheer when you read the opening invitation and the closing benediction. Because Sarah writes truth, with a capital “T” — but she never tells it without love. And YOU, yes, you, are so very welcome here.

I received an advance release digital copy of this fine book from Simon & Schuster Digital Sales, Inc, in exchange for my honest review. This is it – and it is an honor. But I highly recommend that you purchase a hard copy of this one – it needs dog-earring and marking up. I compiled a 7-page document of favorite quotes and ideas, some of which are my own response to Sarah’s thinking in these pages. Now, that’s a good book.

And now, the synchroblog — my own reflections on why I am who I am:

They came streaming down the center aisle on Sunday morning.
Men, women, children.
Students, grandmothers, professors;
building contractors, retirees, babes-in-arms.
Down they came, moving slowly beneath the chandeliers,
bending low over the basket,
taking a morsel of bread
and dipping it into the offered cup.

“The body of Christ, broken for you.”
“The Cup of peace, given for you.”

And, once again, I remembered who I am.

It was All Saints Sunday, a day of remembering.
And we did exactly that.
We re-membered ourselves,
all of us — past and present — in litany,
in prayer, in memory.
The presence of those who led the way
to where we now are was palpable,
breathing out of the wood and stone and stained glass,
echoing in the guitars and piano,
standing right there in the worship center with us,
shoulder to shoulder.

We lit candles to help us remember.
And we thanked God for friends and family
who have left this physical realm,
this place-in-space that only partially reveals the truth of who we are.

And we sang!
Oh, how we sang,
joining our 300 voices with the sound
of saints and angels
around the world and across time,
remembering who we are.

This is our home, these are our people,
this is our song.
I am a woman, yes, I am.
I am glad to be female,
grateful for the power of my body,
the gift of child-bearing,
the ability to nourish.
But I am also a human being.
First and foremost, I am that.
And I am blessed to be part of a community
that celebrates both truths,
that doesn’t hesitate to acknowledge
the ways in which my femaleness
brings wholeness to the image of God
in the midst of the sanctuary.

For the last forty years, this is the truth my husband and I have lived:
we are partners.
We are equal before God.
We bring different gifts and abilities
to our shared table,
but we are, each of us, seen by God for
who we are,
ALL of who we are:
sinful,
broken,
loved,
redeemed by Jesus,
gifted by God,
called and filled by the Holy Spirit,
commanded to love God, others and ourselves,
sent to a world that hungers for grace.
Both of us.
BOTH OF US.

The candles were still gleaming Sunday evening,
as a small group of us gathered to worship Taize style.
Sung prayer, lectio, and once again,
a shared table.

But this time, a litany of silence.
Silence.
Deep enough to hear the bread tear,
quiet enough to hear the purplish fluid being poured out,
every last drop.

Dark enough to exhale.
To fully exhale all the worries of the day,
the carbon dioxide of doubt,
the staleness of fatigue.

It is within this context that I can say yes,
I am a Jesus feminist.
In the center of worship,
in the midst of the congregation,
in the place where I am known.

And in that powerful, life-giving truth,
I rejoice!

My deep thanks to those who lead our congregation in worship that is real and rich – Don Johnson, Jon Lemmond and Bob Gross. It is Bob’s voice that you hear, along with his composing and arranging skills, in the Taize songs I have linked in this piece.

I am joining this post with Sarah’s synchroblog, with Michelle’s weekly invitation and with Jennifer’s storytelling.