Respect the Knife

I recently got a new set of knives. They are really sharp, top quality, long-lasting knives designed by a panel of experts. I allowed myself the indulgence of getting these expensive knives because I chop a lot of vegetables and I had been using a sad, mismatched group of hand-me-down knives that all had to be operated like cleavers…you know, pick your arm up and drop it hard.

On the evening we returned home from our vacation, I couldn’t wait to prepare sumptuous enchiladas with my new knives (which would certainly taste better having been cut with excellent tools)! I had music playing from my YouTube playlist and a Corona on the counter to set the mood. The iron skillet was sizzling with oil and the vegetables were on the counter waiting to be chopped. As I was fiercely cutting the onion, the hot oil was giving me a sense of urgency to get the veggies in the pan. I looked away from the cutting board toward the next vegetable to be chopped, and the sharp knife caught the inside of my pinky-finger rather than the onion.

I am sorry to say that I had done a similar thing another time and Tim had to take me to the emergency room, so this time I didn’t want to cry out for help because I was afraid he would confiscate my new knives if he thought they were going to harm me. I bandaged up my finger and finished the meal prep one-handed. When we all sat down for dinner, I light-heartedly explained my gauze-wrapped pinky-finger with a driving analogy: using my old knives was like driving a Ford, and my new knives were like driving a Ferrari…when you step on the gas, they really get up and go!

I must admit that the cut REALLY hurt. I must have cut into a nerve and I did bleed a lot. I had a doctor look at it the next day and tell me I didn’t need stitches, but I have had a bandage on it for two whole weeks. It is certainly healing, but it still hurts.

A few days after this incident, I was pondering the possible spiritual correlation that could be made with this physical experience, and recalled that the Bible is referred to as “sharper than a two-edged sword, able to cut between bone and marrow, judging the thoughts and attitudes of the heart”. However, it is only helpful when handled with the proper respect. I have used the Bible to try and judge what is right, but without the focus and care required for such a powerful tool, I am sorry to say that I have inflicted damage to myself and others. Only the Master knows which knife to use for which task, and how much pressure to apply, and how small to chop the pieces. When I take care to tune in to the voice of God within me, I can fully utilize the power and grace and strength of the tool of the Word to nourish my spirit like I nourish my body with delicious food.

So, the knife has taught me a physical lesson and a spiritual lesson, but today I also saw an emotional lesson. Respect the knife applies to relationships, as well. When we disregard how powerfully our words or actions affect each other, we carelessly make cuts in each other’s souls. Fortunately, wounds can heal when given attention and care, but they do sometimes leave a scar. I know I will never be able to stop all harm, all pain or all mistakes, but I am hopeful that as I become more aware of myself, my God and those around me, each day I will experience more grace, more peace, more wisdom, more love, and I will give and receive fewer cuts. My knife should only produce delicious nourishment!

Unearthed Treasures

I must be in the phase of life where one takes inventory of the journey thus far. I have a treasure chest bursting with experiences that I could barely see while they were happening, and now is the time when I get to draw them out for inspection and reflection. This process has led me into my archive of documents, re-reading things I have written. I would like to share one with you today. The following is an exercise in specification (learning to add detail to a description so that the reader can actually imagine themselves in the experience).

A vague, general description:

The room was a mess. There was clutter everywhere. You couldn’t even see the floor.

Specification added:

“Upon entering the room, you find that your steps are cushioned by the discarded clothes rendering the carpet invisible. You see the knit top with the embroidered butterflies and the hand-made skirt adorned with swirling nautilus-shaped blues which their owner rejected for a 10-year-old hand-me-down dress. Encircling the sea of clothes are the desks and dressers which support the treasures of childhood: Cinderella pictures colored with a surrounding array of markers, porcelain-faced Mary and her friends, a baseball card collection without Mickey Mantle and the keychain gift from Mom & Dad’s last trip. Friends and family alike enter this room with disgust or pity, but its inhabitants revel in the feeling of being surrounded by their favorite things.”2003

A vague, general description:

It was a beautiful, spring day. The flowers were blooming and the birds were singing.

Specification added:

“It was three weeks into April and the birds were rejoicing that winter was but a memory. The forsythia had welcomed us with their yellow announcement that the pear trees were soon to be waking up from their frigid slumber. As the ornamental pears burst forth covered with white blooms reminiscent of a snowfall, we were exultant that the balmy temperatures confirmed the whiteness to be flowers and not ice crystals! As we strolled outside in short sleeves, our noses inhaled the aroma of wisteria draping off the high places the vine occupied. The vibrant reminders surrounded us with the message that the dormancy of winter has past and the new life of spring is come!” 2003

Not only is the content from these writings a treasure to discover, but the lesson behind the exercise is valuable and pertinent to me today. The people around me access my inner world as I describe it. If I want to hide my true self, if I think others don’t care or if I am not in tune with my own thoughts, I will be vague in my narratives and walk away feeling hungry for intimacy while others only get to know the outside me. But if I want to open my soul with specific details about the environment in there, I can enrich my relationships with the intimacy I crave.

A vague, general description:

I missed you while you were gone. I had a hard time.

Specification added:

“When you are near me, you fill up all my senses. My whole being is poised to orient itself on your location and your disposition. My greatest joy is to be near you and to see you happy, content, satisfied, at peace. When you are in a place on this planet other than near me, a vacuum is created in my soul. My sight, my touch, my smell and my inner-most being aches with your absence. A cell phone call or email does occupy a fraction of my senses, but the majority of my consciousness longs for all of you to return to all of me.

I live and breathe each moment with a soul wide-open to the stimulus around me, sending out sonar looking for resonance to bounce back to me. Only your soul vibrates with mine and makes me feel at rest. When you are absent, my frequencies warp out-of-phase and my whole being is tilted off-balance.”2010

Does my specification make it easier to empathize with me? Do you feel that you know me better? Of course, the risk in this level of vulnerability is rejection, judgment or exploitation (to name a few), but the treasure of understanding and intimacy is worth the risk!

Questions of a Woman

My mind must have been so crammed with the answers about how life works that have since been de-bunked, that all that’s left is a bunch of questions. Burning in my mind right now is: How does the feminine soul get nurtured? Where on earth does one take their suffering to receive mercy? How can I experience the reality of the feminine side of God…His tenderness…His compassion…His generosity…His romance…on this side of Heaven?

When a child falls off his bike and badly scrapes his knees, he certainly needs his daddy to brush him off and tell him it’ll be okay, and that he should keep his eyes on the road better next time, but he also needs his mama to hold him while he cries, and bandage his wounds.

I must have seen too many romance movies or read too many romance novels, because I had developed the notion that Prince Charming should be both strong and brave, but also gentle and sensitive (remember Kate and Leopold). This has been one of the notions about life that has been dismantled in my mind. It is way too much to put on one person to cover both ends of the masculine/feminine spectrum. However, shattering this notion begs the question: If a woman’s Prince Charming is brave and strong, where does she go for gentle and sensitive? If Prince Charming is the more tender type, where does she go for a warrior?

Since I started asking about tenderness, I obviously have the brave and strong Prince, the warrior. He has protected me and rescued me from the fire-breathing-dragons, but he is at a loss with my “moods”. When I get crazy and just need a hug, what does a warrior do with that? Right now, I am of the opinion that I need to stay connected with the Sisters! If I need compassion, I will run to a woman…but not just any woman, she must be a woman of mercy, of kindness, of wisdom, of love. We women have got to give each other the emotional space to be honest, real and open with our thoughts and feelings. We cannot wear religious masks if we are going to truly support and nurture one another. We cannot be jealous or competitive if we want to experience the full benefit of feminine friendship.

In addition to room in our hearts, we must make space in our lives, our schedules, our time, and our days. The feminine soul loves to nurture…as least this feminine soul does. I receive great joy from taking care of people. One of my favorite sayings is “in the refreshing of others, I myself am refreshed”. However, that can become a martyr complex if I’m not watchful. My life can be so totally consumed with nurturing others that I do not carve out time to nurture myself. A powerful source of feminine energy for this much-needed nurturing is other women whose hearts are yearning for the same thing.

There are a lot of voices telling us that our Prince Charming is/should be our everything (those songs are honestly the ones that make me swoon the most), but let’s give the guys a break—there is no way they can fill all our needs, just like there is no way we can be everything for them. (I don’t know about you, but I would much rather my Prince go to the loud/smelly race track with another guy, and let me make him the candle-lit dinner.) In musing over this question, the answer has apparently presented itself: Women! Let’s always carve space for one another—it’s a matter of health and sanity, even survival!

Boxes

When my children started getting older and were no longer content to live in the G-rated world of Sesame Street, and then they even grew bored with PG Disney and moved on to PG13, I was afraid they would turn into disrespectful, foul-mouthed people like the ones in the movies. I survived many years in the PG13 zone, trying my best to protect my kids from becoming contaminated by bad influences. As they have grown into responsible adults who are free to embrace all that life has to offer, I have seen how small the box of my world was.

I had lived with the notion that in order to be safe, one had to stay away from danger. I should avoid any bad input from entering my mind so that I did not become polluted by garbage or led astray from what is right. I thought that I should spend time with people who believed as I did so that my own beliefs did not crumble. I should only listen to experts who shared my world-view lest I adopt false notions. I thought that I must preserve the boundaries of my life at all costs, or I might “go over to the dark side”.

I was in conversation with a person today who sounded a lot like me 15 years ago, and it was eye-opening to hear myself in her from my liberated perspective. As she described what the world inside her box looked like, a few things became apparent to me.

Life in a box contains a lot of fear; it’s what keeps people staying inside. It is the very fiber of the box itself. The box in which she lives only allows certain experts to deliver the truth as they see it, and this doctrine is fairly apocalyptic in its outlook. And the people allowed to speak into their boxes promote the fear that if you do not stay in your box, the world outside will chew you up and spit you out. People also stay in boxes because they’re afraid that they may wander away from God and He will not want to come and find them if they leave their confines and explore beyond their boundaries.

With all this fear, people who live in boxes for some reason truly think that everyone should live in there with them. They may pay lip-service to your right to choose your own way, but deep in their hearts, they are convinced that their box is the only place to live. Everything has a very tight order in that box. The contents are categorized and quantified. The outcome is prescribed and certain. Of course, we should all want to live in such a managed environment, right?

In that box, there is no breathing room. The atmosphere is dark and stuffy. But germs grow in dim, poor-ventilated areas. When all you know is what you’re told to believe, there is no space for original thought, for open dialog or for asking questions. If the only way you know God or the world around you is through another person’s perspective, then the germs of inconsistency, distortion, legalism or hypocrisy grow in your box.

When I realized my box was suffocating me, I crawled out of it and slowly became adjusted to the fresh air and sunlight of true freedom. I discovered that God is everywhere! I also discovered outside of my little box that precious people are truly suffering, living very hard lives, dealing with lots of anger over their hardships, and desperately trying to be happy in R-rated situations.

Maybe it is a cold, hard world, but I have found compassion for all of us struggling to navigate the complexities of life with as much grace as we can find. I have even heard God speak to me through R-rated movies. I don’t have as many answers as I did when I lived in a box, but I ask a lot more questions. However, I do have more love for people than ever before.

Love Never Fails

Love never fails, but any other motivation eventually will. When I lift back the veil of any good deed and see what the driving force is, then it makes sense why some acts of kindness produce beautiful results and other seemingly good deeds end up causing someone pain.

Looking back over my life, I see the story of a person who did what I thought was right in my own eyes at the time, thinking myself to be a good and loving soul who would never intentionally hurt anyone. But when I think of the many ways that I hurt myself (and subsequently the people who cared about me), I realize that I had a jumble of motivators other than love harbored in my soul which did fail me.

These love-imposters have to pretend to be good, so that we will follow them, but they are always born in dark places conceived in pain. My parents created a family ostensibly out of love, but the underlying reason they came together was to get away from their parents’ homes…pain. I was the happy daughter of a mother who loved her children, my innocent joy the evidence of a mother’s unfailing love. But the pain-motivator reared its ugly head in my father and steered him down a destructive path. He probably thought he was doing the right thing at the time by following the “love” in his heart for another woman, but he fooled himself.

This crushing blow to my child’s heart caused a flood of confusing emotions to rush into my soul, mixing the love with pain and insecurity and mistrust. These were like cancer cells attaching themselves to my good cells, making it hard to even tell them apart. The story after this point is of a good student and church youth leader who lived a responsible life hoping that the healthy cells would outgrow the cancer cells and they would die. But cancer is insidious, and it ran an underground life that masqueraded as love, but was truly self-destructive.

To snuff out the disease in my heart, I thought I was creating love as I joined myself to guy after guy who was just as confused about love as I was. The cancer only grew stronger. More hurt, more pain playing like it was love, failing me.

Deep in the core of my being, God’s love was there. The only true love. Perfect love. Complete love. Healing love. Throughout the seasons of my story, I sensed the warmth and light of His love at different intensities.

After many dark years when true love was hiding behind the clouds of independence, self-sufficiency, fun, recognition and tolerance, God’s love came to me through a man. I knew I felt the warmth of his love connecting with God’s love in me, but it didn’t make much sense. It was irrational, unexpected, unsolicited. After living under the delusion that love had to be earned or stolen, experiencing the dawning of real love was foreign and amazing!

Just as deep calls to deep, the true love in each of us bound us together “for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part”! Of course, we all have the waters of our souls carrying trash within the pools of love. My trash of insecurity clouded over the light of true love, and I quickly got back to trying to earn love—never quite measuring up, since only love never fails. Of course, since he’s a human being, his trash showed up as well, and we became two people building a home on true love, but with weeds growing as well.

We had many imposters posing as love: sacrificial service, recognition, duty, judgments, self-righteousness, ambition. But these motivators all prove themselves to be the weeds that they are when they grow into resentment, disillusionment, hurt, disappointment and burnout.

I have gotten too old and tired to carry around anymore trash. For the rest of my life, I want only love. I am throwing out all the trash that clouds up love. Only love never fails. May every deed, every word, every thought be born of love. That is true LIFE!

An Introduction

Ever since I saw the movie Julie & Julia, I’ve thought I would like to start a blog, but I couldn’t just write a blog for the sake of doing it—I had to have something to say. Lately, I have found that I had things to say, so I started writing them down each day. After gathering a few of these, I realized I had the starting content for a blog. Things never seem to happen in the order or timing I think they should, but I have found it to be true that “as a man thinks in his heart, so is he”…so here I am with the start of a blog.

I have been a wife for 27 years to the father of our five children. We have also added a son-in-law this year, and another son-in-law-to-be is in the group. I have taught school a little, worked a bunch in retail selling pretty girlie things and baby stuff and done a lot of singing, but mostly I have cared for our family and our home. I love nature and the One who created it. I have been a voracious reader since I was 14, and over the years, there have been many books that I thought that I would write.

I have concluded that the journey of life is rich, and worthy of consideration, of thought, of pondering, of prayer. These musings I write are snapshots of where I am at this point in my life. I don’t think I have life all figured out for me, and I certainly don’t think you have to agree with me. So, if anything I write helps you at all, or resonates with your perspective, then Yahoo! But if you read something you don’t like or cannot relate to, then just roll over it and leave it with me. I will probably change my mind in another ten years, or you may as well.

I have realized that I can only live my life according to the revelation that I have at any one moment. I can’t go back and live yesterday with what I know now. I can’t go forward and say that I will do things a certain way because of how I think today. And I certainly can’t think that I know what you should do because I have life figured out. My loving, merciful, creative and personal God relates to me intimately and uniquely, as He does with each one with whom He is in relationship. It’s quite like a marriage.

Our marriage is dynamic (continuously changing, vigorous, intense) and intimate (we share life on the deepest level), so as “I” write, you are truly hearing my thoughts intricately entwined with those of my heavenly and earthly husbands. I talk over and prayer over everything you will read, so all my postulations are born from a life woven with the threads of my Tim and my Jesus. Now you know that when you see the pronoun “I”, you should insert “we”.

Now you have a glimpse of where I am coming from (I do hate to end a sentence with a dangling participle, but sometimes it makes more sense than “from whence I come”). I am only writing about my experiences and observations and thoughts, not making any statements of doctrine or judgment for you. And all that I am is infused with the life of my Lovers, Tim and Jesus. If you care to continue reading with that understanding, then I look forward to a lovely blog (albeit an odd word) relationship with you.