Beginnings, the Middle, and Endings

Every story in life has a beginning, middle, and an end. I am convinced of the same in life. We move through seasons with them eventually ending, both literally through the year and symbolically in time. I think that we are arriving at an end right now and anticipating a future. There are many thoughts of excitement and preparation as well as uncertainty with how things will figure themselves out.

The beginning for us was our relationship together, in December we began life together in Chambersburg as an engaged couple. We have faced many joys together, dancing through the sheer bliss of our wedding, laughing with friends and sharing conversation over coffee's, we began the phase of graduate school on my end and V's job as a youth pastor with much anticipation. Arriving at the middle, we lived and learned. Our growth individually and as a couple was great. I learned that my true love is teaching and horses. Combined they bring me life and energy, its where I want to be. V learned where his own passion lies in teaching. Now we are making choices that are leading to an end and another new beginning. Don't you love that there are plenty of new beginnings?

I have learned that there is much fear in our culture of the unknown. A sense of adventure is something in the rare as of late. As we move into an uncharted path, we realize that there is much uncertainty and we embrace that. My identity cannot be shaped in my life as a graduate student or employee. Placing my security in something other then my belovedness as God's child and living life from that is something I have grown in and have more growing to do. V and I have realized that we both desire family in our lives, not in the shape of children yet, but in sharing the ordinariness of life with those who have been a part of our lives from the beginning. The bond of parent and child; siblings; and those who are like family is underestimated.

I step forward, a bit uncertain of the ground, but trusting the voice that is calling to me in the distance. I know its a voice that I can fully trust. And so I move after His voice.

Fast Approaching

Putting words into actions isn't always easy. I am just beginning to learn the power of this. Today begins a whole new adventure into the unknown.

Its good. Scary. Totally crazy. and worrisome. But we are being led by one greater then us.

Even in times of chaos and uncertainty, I am reminded that gratefulness is a choice that I can make daily. Even when its not easy.

Today, I am grateful for:

Early morning coffee with a friend, sharing the uncertainties and joys of life.

A clean house.

Weekends in the country with riding horses through fields and woods.

Conversations with a Mother who has become one of my closest friends.

The faithfulness of an Abba even when I don't know what tomorrow might bring.

Dreams, hopes, and anticipation of future days.

Expectation

I press my hand to my stomach in the same way that a pregnant Mother might be feeling the baby kick inside her. I don't press to feel a child but to feel the sense of expectancy within my being. Just as a storm brews before the thunder starts clapping, my senses tell me that change is on its way. I can feel its breeze blowing through my soul restlessly, reminding me that stagnation is not a place to remain in. It swirls around me when I sit quietly in my familiar easy chair with a cup of coffee in hand, as my pen writes the words of my soul, I can hear the change that is ready to spring from the words into action. As my hands knead the bread that will nourish our bodies, strengthening then for the tasks that might be at hand, I see how I am awaiting the transformation like the dough I am kneading awaits its transformation into a formed loaf. All around me I sense this change, waiting to spring into my life and make all things new.

Simone Weil, an ancient mystic once wrote that “Waiting patiently in expectation is the foundation of the Spiritual life.” As I penned these words into my journal only a few days ago, I pondered their meaning, marveling that words penned so long ago would be true in my life right now in this time and this place. I realized that I waited like an expectant Mother who is nearing the time of her child's birth. The same joy that wells within the heart of a Mother at the thought of meeting this child that she has carried within her for nine months, wells within my soul at the hope of what is to come.

Dreams which have been dreamed for years before this time rise up within my soul again. What I had thought was broken into bits to small to piece back together, suddenly rises up, crushed but not broken. In many ways there is fear within this change involving dreams of the past, how can I trust the author of them to be good when I have seen them bring disappointment and sorrow? As a Mother faces the unknown of what the birth and delivery of her child into the world, we to face this newness, this change, with a sense of fear. We have yet to see its path, it is uncharted, our feet do not know where the roots and holes are. Sometimes we must stumble into them before we know where they are.

Together, a friend and I pondered the unknown change that might be in front of us. Unknown futures and plans lie before us in their mysterious way. We realize that the world around us might think that we are crazy as we make decisions to make way for this change. We seek not only the company of each other, but the company of one who has journeyed through the deepest places of the unknown. Our Pilgrim guide promises to walk beside us the entire way, shining his light so that we might not stumble on the roots or holes on the path. He promises and is faithful.

Like a young Mother journeying into the path of parenthood, we too journey into the sea of the unknown, trusting our guide to lead us. We might face some stormy waters, but the sights we are to see and the beauty we are to behold will sweep upon us in ordinary ways. And so we journey onward, with the restless change soft breeze upon our faces.

Today I am thankful for:

dusk. my favorite time of day.

Sunday afternoon pot roast shared with special friends.

The promise of something new.

Freshly washed clothes, with the scent of cleanliness clinging to it.

the smell of freshly baked bread.

Bread Baking

As I begin writing, the bread is kneaded and rising under the warmpth its dishcloth quilt. It has been pushed down and pressed together, now just waiting for the yeast to allow the oatmeal dough to rise.


I was reading Henri Nouwen's book With Burning Hearts, a meditation on the eucharistic life. He writes of when Jesus walked with the disciples on the road to Emmaus and then broke bread with them. Another reminder, that whispers to me of the presence of Christ in the ordinary, the sacredness of homes and familes. As I stirred, measure, and kneaded the dough that will become the bread we use to fill our stomachs, I pondered the words of Nouwen that I had read only minutes before.

"What we desire is not simply to give food, but to give ourselves"

As my hands pushed the dough down again, I wondered who would take this loaf and break it. Whose stomachs would the bread fill? Would we be in conversation while the bread was eaten? The words of Nouwen spoke into my life, they gave words to my desire to open this home and share this food with whomever passes by. It allowed the simple bread, the process of creating the bread, all to become a tangible way of seeing God's sacred work in the ordinary.

All of which speak to the very essence of the longing within my heart. The longing to know the heart of God, not just know it in terms of knowledge but in ways of letting it permeate all of who I am. It is opening my eyes to the work of Emmanuel, God with us. Even in the most ordinary parts of life.

It is the story of God who wants to come close to us, so close that we can see him with our own eyes, hear him with our own ears, touch him with our hands; so close that there is nothing between us and him, nothing that separates, nothing that divides, nothing that creates distance. Jesus is God for us, God with us, God within us.

Quotes from With Burning Hearts by Henri J.M. Nouwen

Thoughts

I have not been blogging nearly as much as I have wanted to. It seems that life has gone from being simple without many demands into a fuller swing demanding schedule. I enjoy almost all that is happening in life right now, it is asking more of me but I am enjoying giving what I can.

picture is from http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/Office_and_Stationer_g145-Folders_p3984.html

When approached by the idea of the process of grief being slow and tedious, I shyed away. I didn't want to have to even think about having to let go of something I had hoped I let go. The process of saying goodbye is much longer and more complicated then I could have ever imagined. But I am learning, slowly, very slowly.

She lifted her eyes from the steps that her feet were taking. Her eyes moved from watching the wildflowers blow in the wind to the beautiful big sky above her. It was vast, stretching farther then she could imagine. When her eyes had lifted to something so large and imense, she realized that she had been focused on something small and intricte. The wildflowers were part of her path no doubt, they were beautiful and noticing them was important. But sometimes, you have to lift your eyes up to see the larger picture. Details are important, holy pieces of ordinary life, but taking a moment to see in front of you, to grasp the enormity of all our stories is just as important.

picture from http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/Flowers_g74-Bed_Of_Daisies_p3857.html

Saying goodbye is a small part of my story. A tiny piece in the chasm of a much larger story. I want to notice the holy detail, to grasp the beauty and pain in what is befalling my footsteps. But I also want to remember the enormity of the story. Pain, goodbyes, and grief; they are only paragraphs in the story.