Shared Liberation

A quote I got from Sara Groves blog that just seems to resonate with me:

"If you have come to help me you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together. - Aboriginal activists group, Queensland, 1970s

Wow! Who, needing help, really wants to be "less" than his helper? And who, giving help, should feel greater than the one he is helping? But the brotherhood of being liberated with the one you are liberating... and being liberated with the one who is liberating you... that is beautiful!

The Dumbing Down of Jennifer Landeche

Somebody told me I made them feel stupid. He said, "You know, other teachers, they may know like way up here, but they make you feel like they only know a little more than you do."

If he was the first person to tell me this, I would say like "So what!" But he's not. He's like the 2nd or 3rd person to tell me that this year.

So, I've made my mind. For the next 30 or so years of my life, starting today August 26, 2009, I'm making a New Year's Revolution. I'm gonna try really really hard...

to be dumber!

Anybody got any hints?

Cannibals

For those of you who don't have children, let me share a little of mine...

So, my husband Steve and my oldest, Stephen, were sitting on the sofa watching King Kong. For some reason they started talking about the natives and Stephen told Steve that they were cannibals.

Steve, being Steve, said, "What do you mean, candles?"

Stephen replied, "Not candles, CANNIBALS."

My husband then asked, "What are cannibals?"

To which my 8 year old, having seen too many old Tarzan movies, explained, "You know, those black people who like to eat white people."

...

What would life be without kids?

Motherhood

Usually, we just tell Seth to go get "in his spot" and take his nap and he is good enough to listen without complaining (too much). Other times, however, he wants company and sometimes it just feels good to lay down with him.

Today was one of those days.

I wasn't particularly tired today, but I just wanted to lay down and hold him. He is growing so fast and, as much as I want to see him grow into a man, I want to keep him sweet and little. So, I layed down with him and held him in my arms.

As I put my face next to his skin, and breathed in the smell of a toddler who has played in the sun, I thought back to the first time the smell of my child was extremely significant to me. During my second pregnancy, I wondered how alike or how different my second son would be. Would they look alike, would they act alike? Would they love each other, would they hate each other? Would I be able to love them both... and love them equally? I was so afraid that we would not be able to handle these issues. After all, I was an only child, and my husband rarely speaks to his brother. But, as soon as they put Austin in my arms, I was shocked. He smelled... just... like... Stephen!

I'll never forget that moment. It was the first time that I ever realized there was something that made us, as a family, different. Odd as it sounds, we smell alike. But as we grow as a family, I realize it's not just the smell. Since we have brought in a new family member, someone who is not blood, I realize that there are so many ways we are alike. We have a family culture, habits, preferences, ways of relating to each other and handling new things that come along. My children are each quite different, but they, and we, are linked by things that identify us as "family"; things no one can change or take away from us.

But back to Seth's naptime. I love watching his little fingers. Seth, like many children, loves to feel soft things. He has two silky blankets that he sleeps with... and sometimes drags around. But he likes anything silky, and tags on clothing will do just fine when his blankies are not around.

His hands are beautiful. Pudgy, but long, little fingers that gently caress the blanket. Fingers that work back and forth as little fingertips enjoy the softness between them. Dimples that come and go as knuckles flex and extend. And sometimes, he takes his little hand and rubs it across my arm. Back and forth, my forearm feels as soft and warm to him as his little hand feels to me. I know that one day soon, I will miss this intimacy.

As I watched the gentle blue light coming through his curtains and falling onto the soft skin of his face, I wondered if God sees us this way. Does He look at us and see the vulnerable beauty that I see in the baby face before me? In our weakness and scars, does he see the same small body needing protection and heart needing love that I see in my little one lying down for his nap? If God loves me, all the time, with a love greater than the love I feel for my children at moments like these, then what do I have to fear and what do I have to look forward to? As I try to think of the words to write to express that sentiment, of a love my heart can't even imagine, I'm not sure those words exist. I only taste it in moments like these; before the waking world steals the feeling away. Before life and responsibility come in and fill my mind with distractions, smothering the love in which I wish I could remain.

I desperately want to see my children grow up... and at times I try to rush the process. But I truly hate the thought of it. I really love them as they are now; not perfect or perfectly obedient, but each beautiful and still innocent in his own way. I think that maybe I'll be able to enjoy them at each stage of their lives. Each stage brings its own joys and sorrows. But I'll desperately miss them as babies and toddlers.

I do have hope, however. The future of a parent is to become a grandparent. When I can no longer gently kiss my sons' baby skin and smell their baby smell, I can look forward to the soft tiny body of a grandchild. May all my daughters-in-law love me as a mother; and I, them, as a daughter. May God grant me many grandchildren to kiss, and sing to, and take naps with. Thank you, God, for giving me more children than I ever thought I wanted. What would I have done, or been, without them.

Seth's Calling?

A little while ago, Seth told me, "Bye Mommie! I'm leaving!"

"Where are you going?" I asked him.

"To church," he said.

"What are you going to do at church?" I asked.

"Work," he replied.

Noticing he had his little drum/small instrument carrier over his shoulder, I asked him, "Are you going to play music at church?"

Nodding his head, he answered, "Mmm Hmm."

Then, he said "Bye Bye" again and proceeded to walk over to the keyboard, sit down, and start playing.



Look out, Kalon!

Terrifying Holiness

My mind was wandering this morning as I thought about feminine beauty and the pitfalls that those who possess it can fall into. For some reason, Angelina Jolie came to mind and I began to think about the movie roles she has played. Over the years, she has played a number of roles where she is a woman acting in a typically male capacity. She is the female Indiana Jones in the Lara Croft role or she is a hunter as in the movie Wanted. I find it interesting that these kinds of female characters usually have a very cavalier attitude towards sex as well, as though being strong means treating sex as if it doesn't matter.

As I pondered this, I thought about heroines of the past; women who filled a masculine role in society, such as Queen Elizabeth or Joan of Arc. These women were associated with virginity. Their abstinence made them more powerful to the human mind. The Greek Goddess Artemis (Diana in Rome), the virgin hunter, was frightening. One of the myths tells of a prince named Actaeon who happened to catch sight of her taking a bath. She was so furious that she turned him into a stag and his own hounds tore him to pieces. Other myths about her show a similar fierceness in her reaction to threats to her purity or the purity of her attendants.

I had always found Artemis the least likable of the Greek/Roman gods, and now I think I know why. She had no need for human (or divine) love. Her judgments were quick and decisive. She existed completely independently of us. It was this, her holiness, that made her so frightening. By contrast, Zeus, the king of the gods, was not like this. He may have been much more powerful that Artemis, but he craved human love. He also feared the wrath of his wife and snuck around to fulfill his needs. Zeus' sexuality made him weak. How much more fearful would he have been if he had not "needed" human beings?

This is God's holiness: He is completely pure and does not need human beings. He exists completely independently from us. We cannot change his mind, we are not his counselors, we cannot sway Him or influence Him. He does not need what we can give. And no human argument can possibly distract Him from executing exact and divine justice and divine justice requires the death of every one of us. It is God's holiness that makes Him terrifying.

But He also loves us. We have a God who is terrifyingly holy, yet loves us and wants a relationship with us. So, rather than immediately executing that divine justice, He delays it, and gives us a way out. Jesus said, "I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved." God provided a way for us to escape divine judgment in Christ Jesus, but he only gave us one way out. As reasoning human beings, we want to convince Him otherwise. We want Him to make concessions and allow us to escape in other ways, but He is holy. He doesn't give us the opportunity. He formed a plan in the beginning, a divine plan, and He will not accept any human alteration or alternative to His plan. But to everyone who accepts His plan, who opens the door, He says, "I will come in and dine with him and he with Me."

Do you think this is unfair? If you do, you're right. Fairness would require that we all face eternal death because we have all turned away from Him. He did not offer His Son on the cross out of fairness, but out of mercy. It is out of mercy that He has given us one way, because justice demands no escape. But God told Moses, "I will have mercy on whom I have mercy." And He offers that mercy to us.

Have I sounded harsh? If I have, I apologize. I did not intend to offend anyone, I have just simply worked through my thoughts. The holiness of God is a difficult concept and I don't think I've seen it as clearly before as I did this morning, thinking about the Greek goddess Artemis. But as soon as it becomes clear how little God needs us, it is all the more amazing that He wants us and has provided a way for us, his disobedient children, to return to His Love. So I echo King David by saying, "What is man that you remember him, and the son of man that you look after him?"

Oh Lord, our Lord, how magnificent is your name in all the earth!

If...

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With 60 second's worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

- Rudyard Kipling