A delayed understanding...

I used to think that cliques were bad. I thought they were divisive and dividing and even hurtful at times. In my mind I knew that a class of 30 or 200 or 500 people couldn’t be full of bffs. That people had to have groups of friends. But then I still just didn’t like them.

I think it’s because something has gone wrong in the process of us finding our friends.

Some friend groups have been placed on pedestals and others on foot stools.
Our common, social perception says that not all cliques are created equally.

I disagree.

I do believe that indeed, because we are each unique personalities, there are groups of people that would naturally form – people who we just tend to get along with without trying. And that’s great. That’s actually kind of beautiful.

But the problem began the day someone conceived this idea of a ‘social ladder’
Because it’s within this context, within this worldview, that we cease to be comfortable being who we are, for we believe we ought to strive to be more.

NO.

We are individuals. Uniquely, beautifully and wonderfully created.

What I mean is that… it’s just so obvious that no one group of people is better than another. If we were able to take away all of society’s effects, I think the groups that form initially would remain. Though we are all human, we are different types – different sizes, shapes and characters. And there are people who we naturally get along with. If we could choose those people freely, I think we would find happiness in our relationships. But instead we reach. We try to climb a ladder than never should have been dreamed in to existence. And if we get stuck here – if we never realize that we were born to be who we are – then we’re stuck with a life of searching.

For it is in acknowledging the beauty that is unique to our individual souls that we find freedom.
And when we are free, then we are happy.

Fight or flight...

There’s something called the fight or flight response, which is also referred to as the response of your sympathetic nervous system. It’s a co-ordinated series of changes in your body that occur when you’re in a situation that requires you to either fight off an imminent danger or flee from the sight. As you can imagine, this series of changes leads to open your airways to allow more oxygen in to your body, it speeds up your heart rate and dilates you pupils so more light can get in, amongst many other things. Your body however cannot simply accommodate these changes without drawing from other parts of your body that aren’t crucial to this response. And so, while some organs in your body get more blood flow to increase their efficiency, other areas of your body – like your gut and your extremities, have their blood flow constricted.

Overall, I think it’s a pretty phenomenal example of how the body is meant to work cohesively as one.

Fantastic material I say!

If the body of Christ is suffering – I tend to believe we have a responsibility to attend to it. If I was walking in the forest and met a bear and my stomach was too selfish to give up some of its blood - I would become the bear’s dinner. It’s really that simple.

If our community, our body, is suffering. If it is not well. I think we are responsible. I don’t think we can sit around and do nothing. I don’t think we can simply look on them with sympathy and then go on with our lives. As Christmas approaches – I’ve begun to feel that our practice of suffocating our Christmas trees with lavish and extravagant gifts is foolishness. I think we need to become a people of sacrifice. A people of commitment. A people who recognize that, despite the decrees of our society, we are not our own. Our body and our lives are not ours to do with as we please. I mean, we can… and we often do. But I believe we have a responsibility to the rest of our body to offer what we have, to give according to our means and to pray without ceasing. Just as the body subconsciously adapts when a part of it is in need, so we need to consciously choose to recognize those who are in need, and seek out ways in which we might die – that they might live.

If you are reading this on your computer screen, you are a part of the we who have been given so much. And if we are not prepared to give sacrificially in this season of giving – then I daresay we never will be.

What's in a name...

He IS the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.

But He is also our Father

And I have this thought that God may be more interested in being our Father than He is in being a King.

Though we are servants, I think our more intimate role is one as daughters.
And though we deserve nothing, I think He is happy to bless us with abundance.

If we were to compare the Kingship of our Lord to the Kingship of a man over a country, I think the meaning behind these words is born. Does a king prefer to hear his very children call him king? Does he await their first word, hoping it will start with a k? Or does he yearn for the day his child will utter dada – the day when his child will acknowledge that, in a unique way, he has contributed to a portion of this child’s existence. Does he recognize that while he can be a leader to many that has little significance in considering that he has been a proponent in the creation of just a few? I say without hesitation that the latter holds tremendously more meaning than the former. And I think this to be true of our Lord too. I believe He longs for us to recognize Him as our Father more than as our King.

CS Lewis suggests…

--

Why is God landing in this enemy-occupied world in disguise and starting a sort of secret society to undermine the devil? Why is He not landing in force, invading it? Is it that He is not strong enough? Well, Christians think He is going to land in force. We do not know when. But we can guess why He is delaying. He wants to give us the chance of joining His side freely. I do not suppose you and I would have thought much of a Frenchman who waited until the allies were marching into Germany and then announced he was on our side. God will invade. But I wonder whether people who ask God to interfere openly and directly in our world quite realize what it will be like when He does. When that happens, it is the end of the world. When the author walks onto the stage, the play is over. God is going to invade all right. But what is the good of saying you are on His side then, when you see the whole natural universe, melting away like a dream, and something else, something it never entered your head to conceive comes crashing in. Something so beautiful to some of us and so terrible to others that none of us will have any choice left. For this time it will be God without disguise. Something so overwhelming, that it will strike either irresistible love or irresistible horror into every creature. It will be too late then to choose your side. There is no use saying you could choose to lie down when it is become impossible to stand up. That will not be the time for choosing. It will be the time when we discover which side we really have chosen. Whether we realized it before or not. Now, today, this moment is our chance to choose the right side.
God is holding back to give us that chance. It will not last forever. We must take it or leave it.

--

I believe that day will come when every man will recognize God in all His glory for everything He is.
There will remain no doubt that He is, and ever has been, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.
Yes – our God will be victorious.

In a special way, I think those who have known Him as Father will be overwhelmed with irresistible love.
That as we acknowledge Him as our King – we will know too that, though servants, we are also His precious children.
And as we call on Him as the most powerful being, we will know that He has also shown us the most delicate of love.

And so with joy we will declare
That’s my King
and that’s my dad.

His thoughts are higher than mine

I recently read a friend’s musings on how we often don’t understand the ways of God. I agree.

And then I wondered why...

If I had things my way – there would be a step-by-step plan lying on my desk instructing me exactly how I was going to accomplish the Lord’s plans for my life. It would be coloured with detail about the job I would have, the man I would marry and the children I would raise and it would dictate exactly how this would be accomplished.

But that’s just not how it is.

You would be strapped to find someone who would declare with certainty that they know the will of God for the next decade. More often – those who follow Him do so on a daily basis – seeking to hear His voice and follow in His footsteps as He gently guides us along our unique and perfect paths.

Often it’s hard. We don’t know where our steps today will lead us to tomorrow.
But we follow in faith.

And I think there’s phenomenal wisdom in this day-by-day revelation.

See, I often wonder if Agnes Bojaxhiu, at the age of 13, had been told that she would leave behind family and friends and spend her life in the streets of Calcutta feeding those she described as the poor and destitute– would she have endured? Would she have continued to follow? Or would she have run in the opposite direction as quickly and as far as she could have?

If Karol Wojtyla had been told when he was 15 years of age that he would one day be the leader of the Catholic Church on this Earth, that he would be shot in St. Peter’s square and later forgive the man who put a bullet through his chest – would he have remained faithful? Or would he have sought another path for his life?

The Lord reveals His plans on His watch.

Knowing that before He does – He will prove Himself faithful and give us permission to trust Him.
Yes, as we take risks and put ourselves on the line – the Lord assures us that He is worthy.

And it is with this assurance, that we are able to trust more. To risk more.
To forsake all else, which has repeatedly disappointed, and pursue the One who never fails.

Our Father doesn’t ask for foolish abandon before assuring us that He is worthy of our lives.

I think God gives me words once a while because they last. And emotions don’t.

Today, I don’t feel perfectly loved. I don’t feel the abounding, sustaining, suffocating love I easily described a couple days ago. And I don’t know why. But I know I don’t.

I have theories though. About why I don’t.

As I was sitting here this afternoon, feeling less than perfectly loved, a friend messaged me asking how to make pasta. I told him my favourite part is throwing it against the cupboard to see if it sticks – an absolutely guarantee that your pasta is ready! Yum.

Anyways – he proceeded to make his pasta, cupboard throwing and all. And was so pleased with his success he came online to tell me how well it worked, and more than that – featured this accomplishment in his facebook and twitter status – with a shout out to yours truly. And can I, regretfully, tell you, that –emotion wise –this was the most loved I felt this evening.

I think the world has become really good at acting.

John Paul II wrote of our heart’s yearnings.

I find great peace in thinking of the time when the Lord will call me: from life to life! And so I often find myself saying, with no trace of melancholy, a prayer recited by priests after the celebration of the Eucharist: In hora mortis meae voca me, et iube me venire ad te – at the hour of my death, call me and bid me come to you. This is the prayer of Christian hope, which in no way detracts from the joy of the present, while entrusting the future to God's gracious and loving care.

“Iube me venire ad te!”: this is the deepest yearning of the human heart, even in those who are not conscious of it.


I don’t always see this. The people I encounter don’t appear to be hungry. They don’t scream yearning. And when I’m stuck in my own world, engulfed by the love of the Father, I think I’m quick to forget what it is to NOT know the love of the Lord. To not have that yearning spoken for.

My theory: when I find myself suddenly feeling unloved, I think that’s a bit of a wake up call. It’s a reminder of how I would feel most everyday if I didn’t know, have or embrace the love of my Father. A reminder that though we can all put on happy faces and pretend we’re satisfied; though we can even convince ourselves that we have what we need, it doesn’t make it real. Our longing doesn’t go away. A reminder that just because everyone seems to have it together doesn’t mean they do. A reminder that we are capable of wearing masks and pretending we’ve found what we’re looking for – though that remains a distant reality for many.

Life’s a lot easier if we ignore the yearning of our human hearts. Or the yearning of those hearts around us. It’s easier when we accept people at their face value and fill our lives with temporary pleasures to dull the ache of our own longings.

So many of the things we do can be explained by our hunger to be accepted, to be needed and to have purpose in our lives because much of who we are is wrapped up in our hearts. And so it follows that our true happiness lies in satisfying those innate desires with that for which they were created.

Objectively, we often find ourselves on the outside of situations that our friends or family are involved in and we just can’t understand why they are where they are. We don’t understand why they choose option A, when it is slowly destroying them, while option B has their true best interests at heart.

Look to their yearnings.
Look to the rawest desires of their heart.

Therein we find the answers.


Our hearts are restless until they find rest in You.
St. Augstine

Drowning in love

I know I say it a lot – but we are so perfectly loved.

I love my parents. And they love each other so much.
But I’ve noticed that when my dad does something for my mom, to express his love, he often does something that would make him feel loved – versus expressing his love according to her love language. And vice versa.

There’s a bit of incongruence that happens here, since my mom doesn’t necessarily experience love the same way dad does. And so, while their intentions are perfect, their actions aren’t always a perfect reflection of their intention.

Gary Chapman may have been one of the first to discuss our love languages a good deal. I’m a fan.
(http://www.fivelovelanguages.com/)

And as I’ve pondered this ‘imperfect’ love, I find God’s character as our Creator begins to pop.

Over the past few months, I’ve found myself floored by how loved I can feel in a moment. It’s a love that I think no human can perfectly express.

I’m so fickle. My needs, my desires, my wants are constantly changing. I could never expect anyone on this Earth to keep up, to know what I’m feeling in a moment, and to know how to love me perfectly. There are times when I’m lonely, and want to be engaged and reminded that my life is important. And then there are times when I’m overwhelmed with work, and the best way I receive love is when I’m given space, without you feeling like I no longer love you.

And so I cannot expect to always be understood or loved perfectly for my thoughts are not always plastered on my forehead. And still - that’s the thing about God. He’s always BANG ON.

There’s no guessing game with Him. He doesn’t have to decipher my words or my actions. He knows.
Just as Bill Gates knows how to fine tune the PC world, as a pet owner knows how to work with their pet, so our Creator knows His Creation. And in so knowing us, He loves us just as we need to be loved.

And through this love we find ourselves almost crushed by the beauty of His love that can drown us in a moment. If love could suffocate, I think His would.

Arbitrarily abnormal

We have this idea that if you’re not in “perfect health” that you’re abnormal – you have a disorder.

I don’t think that’s fair.

For something to be normal it must be “in accordance with scientific laws”. The Merriam Webster suggests that normal is defined as “occurring naturally”.

If that is the case, if we would trust this dictionary for other definitions and therefore can accept this same definition – then Down’s syndrome is NORMAL. Multiple sclerosis is NORMAL. Cystic fibrosis is NORMAL. Many illnesses are NORMAL.

But maybe that definition of normal doesn’t satisfy…. Maybe we think normal should be a construct we examine within the context of the majority.

STILL.

If we define normal based on societal norms, based on that which describes the majority of people, then having blond hair is a DISORDER. Having a university education is ABNORMAL. If we truly compare ourselves to the majority of people – we would all be abnormal in one sense or another.
And if we accept that, then I guess I’m okay with identifying disease states as abnormal.

My issue, then, arises when we rank ourselves on a vertical ladder that says one state of abnormality is greater or worse than another. When we accept a certain amount of deviance from the norm, but arbitrarily define a cut off, below which, we no longer believe life should exist.

When does this happen, you ask.

90% of women who undergo prenatal screening and receive a positive test for Down’s syndrome (which is neither 100% specific nor sensitive, indicating false positives do occur), will choose to abort their child. Those statistics do not hold if the child is found to have light hair – so that degree of abnormality is okay. They also do not hold if the child is found to have an extra finger or a cleft palate – a greater degree of abnormality, but still acceptable. Why.

As far back as the human family can be traced, these “abnormal states” have been present. People with different coloured eyes and different coloured skin, who may not represent the majority, have maintained a right to remain a part of our family. Should not, too, those with Down’s syndrome? Or cystic fibrosis? Should they not be extended that same welcome in to this world?

As genetic screening becomes increasingly wide-spread and abortion rates remain devastatingly high, let us not forget that our individual choices determine the future of our human family – which is strengthened, not broken, by its great diversity.

Surprised by His love...

I think God has an *ongoing desire to make His love known.

I think, often, when we look at the cross, we’re (a) horrified and then (b) flabbergasted.

And then… somehow… we dare to believe that the Lord suffered the cross for our sake. That He really did love us enough to lay down His life.

And THEN we’re overcome by this sense of gratitude. We feel this responsibility to show the Lord how much we love Him. We feel like He has done His part on the cross, and now the rest of our life song should sing of our love for Him. And to ask Him for another sign of His love, would be like asking Mother Teresa to have done more. For He has done more than enough already.

BUT – in so doing, I think we almost remove Him from our relationship, as we strive to love him back.

Love is not a one-time commitment. It is not just something we prove once in some extravagant demonstration. And we know this. Because, in truth, that doesn’t match our human experience of love.

A man does not make an elaborate demonstration of his love as he proposes to his beloved – and expect that to be followed by a lifetime of his wife ‘repaying’ that love.

A mother doesn’t tell her daughter once when she is 6 years old that she loves her, and is willing to sacrifice her career to raise her – and then expect her daughter to love her back for the rest of their relationship with no further extension of love on the mother’s behalf.

Not only would that be a violation of love, it just doesn’t match our natural inclinations.

WHEN I LOVE SOMEONE I WANT THEM TO KNOW IT.
I want to express my love repeatedly.

I FEEL COMPELLED TO LAVISH THEM WITH MY LOVE.
With words of encouragement.
With hugs and physical affection.
With my time.
With my efforts.
With that which I have that I can offer them.

I long for them to know that I love them. And not just once.
I long to show them my love over and over and over again.

Is that not the very character of love?

Once we feel it, when we choose it – we are spilling over with a desire to have it known. To make it manifest.

Sure, we feel it more at some times and less at others, but that’s our humanness.

IMAGINE THE LOVE OF GOD THE FATHER.

He loves us SO perfectly.

And yes – what He did on that cross is enough.
It IS all we need.
It is the greatest gift any of us could ever dare to ask for.

And yet, it wasn’t meant to be a one time expression of love.

Jesus didn’t die on that cross that we would seek to repay that love for the rest of our lives.
No – He continues to desire to lavish His love upon us on a daily basis. He doesn’t want to hide that love and He doesn’t ask us to prove our love.

Even after emptying Himself fully on the cross, He –still- desires to romance us. To give even more of Himself for us – His beloved. For me – His princess. For you – His prince.

And just as a lover devises creative ways of expressing himself to the one whom he loves, so the Lord does for us. He blesses us with His abundant love. And in so doing – He invites us to fall in love with Him.

Yes – it is when we allow our hearts to be truly captured by His love that His name begins to bring a smile to our lips. It is when we are being pursued by the Lord that there is joy in our step.

He who created our hearts is ready to fight for them. He WANTS to fight for them.
... that we might have eyes to recognize the way in which our Saviour woos us.

But there are starving children in Africa….

For the longest time, whenever I heard people complaining about insignificant events – a stain on their favourite sweater, the wrong seat in a movie theater, not getting tickets to a concert they really wanted to see – I always felt an urge to shake them. I felt it was my responsibility to remind them that were starving children in Africa – why weren’t they just grateful for a sweater on their back? Or the privilege of watching a movie? Or the ability to listen to their favourite musician whenever they pleased on their fancy mp3 player?

Even when I caught myself complaining about the silliest of details, I always felt so spoiled. I felt like an ungrateful little girl, stuck in my own world, indifferent to the circumstances of the rest of the world. When I would then remind myself of those in less fortunate circumstances – occasionally my thoughts would turn around, but most often it wouldn’t accomplish what I hoped it would – namely a true change in my own attitude.

Recently I’ve learned that my eyes are not God’s eyes – and they don’t perfectly reflect that which He sees.

A few weeks back my heart slightly broke. It wasn’t a devastating hurt. In fact, it was probably the kind of thing that was bound to happen in time, so if anything – I ought to have been grateful for the pain I was being saved down the road. That’s what my head told me.

And yet – tears poured down my face as I experienced my emotions of the moment.

But in that moment, when I just couldn’t control the hurt in my heart, I heard God speak so clearly. And I knew that He cared. Yes, as I cried – curled up in my in my overpriced bed, wearing my overpriced sweatshirt, with my overpriced make-up all over my face, the God of this universe cared.

As humans – we’re so tempted to see circumstances. And to judge our lives based on circumstances. I think we’ve been brought up to do just that. When we see someone who is blind, we’re so grateful we can see. When we see someone without a fancy house, we’re thankful for the shelter under which we live. And when we see people in developing nations living lives so extremely different than our own – we think it’s our responsibility to give them what ‘we have’. To impose our infrastructure, our culture and our morals on their people.

I’m not sure that’s how it’s supposed to be. Though there are some basic human necessities that ought to be shared the best we know how with the greatest number of people, I dare say even that is not what’s MOST important.

If a mother or a father were to decide if they would rather have children who are rich but unhappy, or poor and happy –what would they choose? It’s not an easy question, because society and experience have led us to believe that money makes for happiness. But at the end of the day, a parent wants their child to be happy. To be satisfied. To be content. And they only want them to have money because they believe that is what will lead them to this desired outcome. A parent is less concerned with their child’s circumstances than they are with what that circumstance might produce (from this idea we develop the concept of discipline).

And as we so often see, the desires of a human parent for their child beautifully reflect God’s desires for His children.

I really doubt it matters if you have money or if you don’t. I don’t think it matters if you can hear or if you’re deaf. If you sing like an angel or are completely tone deaf. These things just seem so worldly. And there are countless examples of beautiful, talented, unique, holy people who fall under every title we could dream up.

Instead, I believe the Lord is concerned with the essence of His creation. He is concerned with my heart. My soul. My salvation. He wants for me to know His love. He longs for me to trust in His love. To find security in calling Him my Father. I think He desires that I go to sleep every night knowing that I am important. Knowing that I am precious. Cherished. Cared for.

This life just is not about our circumstances. It’s not a comparison between what I have and what you have. What you have accomplished and what I have. Our circumstances are only important in so much as they direct us towards our ultimate home. If it takes a broken heart for me – Inshallah. If it takes illness for one, poverty for another and failure for yet another – far be it for me to say their circumstances are unfortunate. For if we are able walk through these circumstances and end up at a place where we are more able to trust in the unwavering love of our Father – then our circumstances, easily dismissed by this world as misfortune – were exactly what we needed.

And so, as I lay curled up in my bed – I don’t think the Lord spoke ingratitude over me, as I may have done to myself before. No – I think He saw the part of me that is still looking for love and acceptance in this world. And He saw how it had been refused. And He knew what that meant to me. He understood my tears.. and I think He was happy to let His love be known in my time of hurt.

One body in Christ

In Church history – there used to be a lot of talk of making reparition for sin. There was, and still remains, this idea that as a body of Christ, we can make reparation for one another’s sins. That the penance we do and the sacrifices we make, can atone for the sin of others.

And this makes sense.

If, as a child, your vision in your left eye isn’t so good – the part of your brain responsible for vision in your right eye will “over develop” in order to compensate for decreased vision on your left. If you develop a permanent contraction in your hip that would normally prevent you from placing your feet evenly on the ground, the normal curve in your lower back will exaggerate to allow for normal movement. Similarly, if you lose your sense of vision, your sense of touch and taste are heightened to compensate for your lack of visual perception.

And so we see that the human body is able to, and naturally does, compensate for its imperfections.

So can the body of Christ.

While it would be easy for us to just live our own lives as though we weren’t part of a greater, supernatural community of believers – that’s not the reality of the Church. For when we were baptized, we became a part of God’s Kingdom – and that comes with a responsibility that supercedes our own wellbeing. Just as the leg cannot operate on its own and becomes paralyzed if the spinal cord is severed, I, too, cannot live disconnected from the mystical body. No – I run this race with my brothers and sisters. And in so much as they make up for what I lack, I too have a call to make up for where they lack.

Indeed we are called to share in each others’ sufferings, and we are called to atone for one another’s sins. We are called to pray for one another, to fast for one another and to suffer for one another. We are called to live as one body, and beg forgiveness as one body – for the sins of ourselves, of our Church, of our country and indeed of the whole human race.

St. Paul knew this (Colossians 1:24). And we need to remember it.

For the body of Christ on this Earth will never be made up of individuals who have attained perfection. And so – the only way in which we will achieve perfection is if we rely on each other for that which we lack and selflessly offer ourselves, and our lives, for the sake of the Kingdom to which we belong.

Colossians 1:24
Now I rejoice in what was suffered for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church

Because laundry makes for wonderful analogies….

The doctrine of justification by faith (sola fida) that suggests that once we believe we are immediately justified, is something like this shirt I had when I was 4. I spilled cranberry juice all over the front of it and didn't really know that laundry machines existed. And so, my little brain concluded that there was only one solution to this dilemma - I took a red paintbrush and painted over the entire design that had formerly decorated my shirt to disguise the stain. Good bye forever flower-patterned shirt!

When we say that the blood of Jesus justifies us from the moment we put our faith in Him – we become that shirt – we are covered by the blood of Christ in an instant. And if we subscribe to a doctrine of once saved always saved, we can no longer re-create that shirt. Those flowers that were once there, the sin that once made us unworthy of entering heaven is permanently covered and cannot be revealed.

A few years later, I learned to do the laundry.

From that point on, I discovered that different clothes require different rinses. A general detergent is normally enough to clean a shirt, but once and a while, a special something is needed. Once the shirt comes out of the wash, it’s not always clean – sometimes it needs to be washed again before it’s fully ready to be worn again. But once it’s clean, it looks just as it did when it was made. The flowers don’t fade and the colours remain bright.

I think that’s why I find the doctrine of ongoing justification so beautiful. Everything about who we are becomes justified. We’re not all run through the same mill; we don’t all undergo the same transformation. Instead – we are uniquely transformed through our personal experiences, prayers and times of worship. It is our trials – or rather our response to trials, to temptation and to suffering that change us. Our life becomes a permanent process of conversion as God reaches deep in to our souls and draws out the spotless creature that He has made. Instead of wiping away our ability to reject God in one moment, instead we walk slowly, hourly with our God as He changes our will and strengthens us to choose in Him in every circumstance. And so our flowers remain.

It’s not as easy. And it’s not as simple.
But it’s so beautiful.

Living this moment

There is so much to be said for setting goals. For planning long term. For preparing what the future.
These things all have the power to save us sleepless nights and bouts of anxiety

But there’s also something to be said for living in the now. Especially for some of us.
The future is, and will ever be, a mystery.
But for some of us – we occasionally get a glimpse in to what it might look like.

The aspiring law student works with an accredited lawyer and envisions how her days will be spent.
A pregnant mother spends the day with her best friend’s newborn baby, and there she sees what her future may hold.
And the sick patient, the newly diagnosed, encounters a patient who was in their shoes 25 years ago. The ‘early stages’ patient meets the ‘late stage’ patient, and they, too, glimpse their future.

It’s happened to me twice.

The first time, I expected myself to react. I expected to be scared, to be anxious, to have somewhat of an aversion to Mr. Late stage.
But I didn’t.
I think it’s because Mr. Late stage was the kindest man alive. And the happiest. And he made me believe that if I ended up in his position, affected as he was, that I, too, would be happy. So after mentally noting that my reaction had not been what I expected, I jovially went on with the rest of my day.

And then came instance number two.

In class recently, we’ve been learning a bit about what my future could hold.
And it’s not THAT bad. Worse things exist.
I had a friend return recently from a developing nation where she had a needlestick with HIV and for the past month has been waiting on results that could change her life.
I know things could be worse.

But these days, when I think about the future, I’m scared.

The part of me that had dealt with this diagnosis, that has been at peace for so long, is starting to remind me, once again, that not everything is well. And it makes it just a little difficult to live in this moment. It tempts me to worry about tomorrow, even though I’ve chosen to live in today. And so I find myself in a place where I have to remind myself to enjoy the sun that is shining, the cookies in the oven, the gift of being able to learn and the health that I currently enjoy.

It’s my process. I choose to appreciate all that I have today, and I trust, that if my fears come to fruition, then I will become Ms. Late stage who gives hope to the early stage medical student that interviews me in my hospital bed.

I refuse to miss out on the joys today because of the possibilities of tomorrow. And I refuse to stop trusting that everything that happens in my life, that I have no control over, can be the wrong thing for my life. There are some things in life that we make happen. And there are some things that happen to us. When we fail to create the former – shame on us. But when we fail to accept the latter, I think we cease to grow.

And so

For today, I will live joyfully in the duty of this moment.

Declaring love

The thing about being loved…
Is that you don’t always feel loved.

I think my life has 3 kinds of days
1. My everyday life – maybe you run in to the odd person who brightens your day or receive the odd phone call from a friend, but generally, it’s not extraordinary – it’s just quite ordinary. But when you know the love of Jesus, suddenly the ordinary becomes extraordinary – and that’s kind of your baseline. That’s what you expect everyday. An extraordinary ordinary day because of God’s love.

2. Day two is the kind of day where I’m surrounded by people who love me deeply. They’re the kind of people who encourage and support you, who push you to be your best and who outwardly approve of you. In a sense, these are the people who make manifest God’s love for us. The way in which they love us is the best way we receive love. On these days, when we go to bed, we know what it is to be loved by God BECAUSE of these people’s love. We declare with ease that God loves us, because He has sent these people as a physical reminder of His love. These are some of the best days.

3. And then there’s day 3. These are the harder days. These are the days when you encounter people in a different way. There’s nothing to say they don’t love you – they probably do. But sometimes we don’t understand love in the way they express it. Sometimes their brokenness comes in the way of them loving us perfectly and we feel hurt, lonely, misunderstood. We almost feel worthless. We wonder why they don’t treat us as though we’re special, important, valued, cherished. These aren’t like day 1 or day 2. No, day threes are the days when, before we go to bed, we have to declare in truth that we are still perfectly loved. That our value as human beings has not changed. That we are precious and beautiful and loved. We have to remind ourselves that this was just a day 3, and tomorrow will be a day 1 or 2, and even if it’s not, it doesn’t matter. Because on day 3s, God makes His love manifest. His Holy Spirit comes alive and comforts our spirits. These are the days when the devil tries to break our spirits, to make us believe that we aren’t daughters and sons of the King. These are the days when we find ourselves vulnerable and tempted to believe that our value is defined by those around us. And so it is vital that whenever a day three is thwarting our hearts, we declare in truth that never has anyone been loved the way we are loved, that we claim God’s love and we allow His arms to consume us as we listen to His heart beat once again.

Sometimes the healing takes time.

The process of recovery is never an immediate one. When we’re hurt, when we lose our job, when we go under for an operation – whatever it is, when it’s over, the process is not.

If we’ve lost our job, the process of finding another one is never immediate. It can take days, it can take months, sometimes it can even take years. The process requires we pick ourselves up, brush off the sense of rejection and inadequacy and bust our tails until we find work again. The recovery takes time.

The same is true of a patient undergoing surgery. Once they have been operated on, they leave the hospital, yes. But the process goes on. It can take days, but more often weeks until they’re back to their usual selves, with no restriction on what they can and can’t do. The surgeon discharges them from their care much earlier on, but the recovery – it takes time.

How much more is this true of us, when our hearts have been hurt and scars have been left behind. Indeed, our hearts do hurt. And just as with the loss of employment or the completion of an operation, if we don’t follow the “rules”, if we don’t take the necessary steps – our hearts may never heal. The recovery may never happen.

But unlike most other things in our lives, there is NOTHING that necessitates our hearts will ever recover.

With a job loss, if we don’t recover – we eventually find ourselves unable to pay the bills, and the bank’s collectors scream recovery until we listen.

With surgery, if we don’t seek the rest we require – our wounds will become infected, our incisions may open and our state of health will scream rest until we listen.

But when our hearts are hurt, it is too easy to ignore their protests. From their depths they are pleading to be healed – they are begging for affirmation, for love, for sincerity. But instead of heeding their call, instead of listening to the truths they cry, we bury them. We erect walls so that they cannot be heard. We answer their deep longings with men who will make us feel loved, with distractions that make us forget what we lack and with substances that numb the pain – if just for an hour.

But occasionally, the hurt is too great for us to ignore it any longer. Occasionally it cries out with an undeniable cry – and we have a chance to respond. We become conscious of the pain that exists. And then we’re faced with this heart-wrenching choice. YES, it should be easy to say yes to healing. But it’s not.

It’s easy to say yes today, but tomorrow, when it gets hard and loneliness sets in, it’s no longer easy. That’s when the healing begins to take time. It means we will go through times of knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are deeply and passionately loved, to times where we just feel worthless. Those are the times we cry out to the only One who can heal us, to wrap His arms around us, to give us the peace He has promised, and to once again reassure us that we are precious. That we are beautiful. And that no conversation, no phone call and no friendship can change that.

Truth is just truth.

Surgery.

... because I've just completed a 2 week rotation in surgery

To be a surgeon, you have to be very patient. See, as our persons grow and mature, as we live our lives –going to work, attending church, developing friendships, existing as a sister or brother or uncle – our bodies too are growing. Their insides are changing. They’re doing so many things they should be doing, and then the odd thing they shouldn’t be. Tissue is growing, things are stuck together, and that’s all normal. We live on.

But when a surgeon operates, they must be patient.

When they pierce the skin and insert their first retractor, what they see is not what is found in an anatomy textbook. No – years of growth necessitates that not everything is as you or I might expect. The insides of a person are never predictable. All the necessary organs are present and functioning, but they are not isolated. There are bands of tissue sticking them together, occasionally interfering with their function and obscuring the view of the person on the outside.

So are our insides – so is our heart.

Yes, it exists in its original form, with an inherent desire to be loved and a natural capacity to love. It is constantly searching for the answers to life’s greatest questions as it beats on day in and day out. But it, too, is affected by our growth. As we have risked parts of our heart, as we have loved and been loved, as we have been vulnerable and felt rejection, so too has our natural state been shifted. And so, just as the insides of no two people are identical, so too – the hearts of no two people can be the same.

Now for the surgeon to accomplish their task, they must gently pry away those things that don’t belong. They peel back layers and proceed cautiously until they obtain their critical view – the perfect plane through which they have the access they require to operate. If they move too quickly or carelessly, they risk complications and so, before surgery can begin, a patient must agree to these potential risks, or the surgeon cannot proceed.

I think our hearts are hidden and Christ, Himself, is our divine surgeon.

Knowing exactly what is buried beneath the mess, He slowly peels back our layers until we are revealed. He proceeds gently, knowing what we can handle and what will come later. He is patient beyond patient and capable beyond understanding. He, too, cannot proceed until we give our consent – but unlike the fallible surgeon, our healer can do no wrong. The God of this Universe knows our anatomy. He knows how to draw our hearts out of the tightest bondage and in to the greatest of freedoms.

So, I think it’s time to sign the consent form.

Heart attacks... litterally.

When someone has a heart attack, it's because a part of their heart has been deprived of oxygen for a period of time. If they aren't treated quickly enough and the vessel remains blocked, that part of their heart necroses and the tissue dies. Depending on how significant the heart attack is and how much of the heart is without oxygen, it can leave a heart's function pretty impaired - such that every time they exert themselves physically, they are unable to adequately pump blood to the rest of their body and soon have to stop to catch their breath - and this damage cannot be reversed. If they have multiple heart attacks, the damage is multiplied, until eventually their heart is overwhelmed and ceases to function.

When our hearts are wounded emotionally, I think the same thing happens. At first, if the hurt is small, maybe we don't notice it - so we venture out and try to love again. But as the hurts accumulate, our capacity to love is impaired, so now, when people get too close or we find ourselves vulnerable, we pull back - we need to stop and catch our breath because we no longer feel able to love or be loved so deeply.

But then the difference between the two is that, with a heart attack, the damage can't be reversed. Once scar tissue is deposited, it cannot be revived to life. Our emotional heart is not so - instead of blood clots blocking the blood bessels, I think we've placed clamps over them. The effect is the same - that part of our heart is not longer accessible, but the long term effects are not. I believe that God can reach into the depths of our heart and re-infuse them with His love. I think He can teach us to love again- He can bring our hearts back to life.

The reason we (i) blog

I think there's a reason this blogging business has become so rampant.
I think it's the same reason the '25 things' facebook activity spread like wildfire.

We all want to be known and loved.
We want to bear our souls and find approval from those who come our way.
So whether it's an anonymous passerby, or the choice few we share our thoughts with, I think we are looking for acceptance.

So let me not suggest my intentions are otherwise.
My soul, too, longs to be known and cherished.

BUT
The more I live, the more I know that this inherent desire of my heart may never be satisfied by the things of this physical world.
There is no one who could ever fully know or perfectly love me.
And that's okay.

I think that's how we're meant to live.

This desire inside of us points us to the only One who will ever know the depths of our hearts; to the One whose love will never falter.
Yes, even before the words of my mind leave my fingers, the God of this universe knows them - and He calls them beautiful.

He calls me beautiful. for He has created me.
I am His most precious and cherished daughter.
Because I have been baptized into His family, I have become royalty.
He is the King of creation and so I am His princess.

So whether or not I know it or seek affirmation through this blog...
There is a God who knows my name, who has counted the hairs on my head and has chosen to love me passionately.