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Dreams

Have you ever had a dream taunt you from just outside your range of memory?

For the last week, I’ve had remnants of dreams that dance around the edges of my peripheral memory, taunting me with a sense of importance and laughing at my inability to grab hold of them and perform a thorough dissection. Moreover, I think I’m having the same dream — or dreams with similar themes, characters and settings — every night, because the dream-wraiths all have a potent air of familiarity. It’s very frustrating. Like still being able to taste the spices from dinner, but not being able to remember what it was you ate. Drives me nuts!

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Bring Back Janet

I’m sitting here watching the Superbowl with Adria. Well, really, the end of the half-time show.

I "should" be writing — I have an assignment of about 1,000 words due tomorrow… it might be a leeetle late….. ‘Cause I’m watching the game instead of writing. I’m not interested in who wins, just who loses. I don’t want the Patriots to win. It’s a principle thing with me. They beat my Panthers last year. I want them to lose big time this year.

So half time… I have one word. Bor-ring. Not that I’m into these kinds of shows anyway. Last year I missed the moment all the hoopla was about. I was hanging out at the bar-b-cue, talking with friends when "it" happened. But I gotta tell ya, Paul McCartney may be cool and all, but he makes for a boring show — especially in someplace as big as a football stadium. What kind of show did the folks up in the attic seats get, I ask you. A few fireworks on two different songs, some videos shown on small long screens, and a little tiny ant-thing on a little stand

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Snark-o-Meter Warning: Exceeded Acceptable Limits

Dictionary.com
snark·y
Pronunciation Key (snärk)
adj. Slang snark·i·er, snark·i·est
Irritable or short-tempered; irascible.
[From dialectal snark, to nag, from snark, snork, to snore, snort, from Dutch and Low German snorken, of imitative origin.]
snarki·ly adv.

UrbanDictionary.com
snarky
(adjective) describes a witty mannerism, personality, or behavior that is a combination of sarcasm and cynicism. Usually accepted as a complimentary term. Snark is sometimes mistaken for a snotty or arrogant attitude.
Her snarky remarks had half the room on the floor laughing and the other half ready to walk out.
Source: A Gianotto (snipe), Oct 9, 2002

Lu the-walking-Dictionary/Thesaurus
Snarky
(proper pronoun) Yours Truly
…Especially when my boss calls and asks if I’ll come into work, and I DO — on my day off — and then he doesn’t even get me a vente Chai Latte when he has Starbucks delivered for himself. Oh, yes. The snark-o-meter is high today kiddies.

Heh. He just thinks he’s getting work outa me. Little does he know this little engine doesn’t run unless it’s fed copious amounts of caffeine… the more the chai the faster we goooooo…..

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Heartsick

I’m heartsick. Absolutely heartsick. I just read Dawn’s latest post. My soul aches to its depths.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

"Mosaic Nashville’s core team met again last night…"

I read this at the beginning of a blog of one of the members of the core team…it made me lose interest in the rest of the message.

I’ll explain.  See, I wasn’t at that meeting.  Bryan wasn’t at that meeting.  In fact, neither of us even knew this meeting happened.  It seems strange to me, because I thought we were part of the core team.

Bryan and I left our core group of believers in Texas to follow a calling God placed in our hearts.  We were setting out on an adventure to reach people in Tennessee.  We were joining a group of others with the same vision and passion.  We were the FIRST ONES IN NASHVILLE!  And now we are not even included in the core team!

Dawn’s right. She has every right to be angry. I can give reasons why she and Brian weren’t there, but ultimately they’ll just sound like empty excuses.

I didn’t know they didn’t know about our Life In Christ meetings. I’d been told they knew. I guess I misunderstood.

Oh, my heart hurts!! I love Dawn. She’s been a good friend to me. I look forward to seeing her every Sunday. If I were to be totally honest, I’d say I rather cling to her and follow her around like a puppy, because she’s one of maybe three people in the group with which I feel totally comfortable being myself. It breaks my heart to know I hurt her!

And I know the pain she’s feeling. I know that feeling of being left out all too well. All too well. It’s happened too many times in my life to ever forget the sting of it, and the anger that rises from the depths of your heart, the feeling that you’d been played, lied to….  I would never intentionally inflict that pain on someone else. And yet, unintentionally, I have. Oh, Jesus, forgive me!

I hope Dawn will forgive me…. I will take every angry, hurtful word she wants to say — or yell, or scream — at me. I know it’s justified. I know where it comes from. I understand it. I just hope when its all spent she will forgive me. Forgive us.

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All-Out Two-Fisted

Oh yes, people of Zion, citizens of Jerusalem, your time of tears is over. Cry for help and you’ll find it’s grace and more grace. The moment he hears, he’ll answer. Just as the Master kept you alive during the hard times, he’ll keep your teacher alive and present among you. Your teacher will be right there, local and on the job,  urging you on whenever you wander left or right: "This is the right road. Walk down this road."

Look, GOD’s on his way, and from a long way off!
Smoking with anger, immense as he comes into view,
Words steaming from his mouth, searing, indicting words!
A torrent of words, a flash flood of words sweeping everyone into the vortex of his words.
He’ll shake down the nations in a sieve of destruction, herd them into a dead end.

But you will sing, sing through an all–night holy feast!
Your hearts will burst with song, make music like the sound of flutes on parade,
En route to the mountain of GOD, on the way to the Rock of Israel.
GOD will sound out in grandiose thunder, display his hammering arm,
Furiously angry, showering sparks- cloudburst, storm, hail!

Oh yes, at GOD’s thunder Assyria will cower under the clubbing.
Every blow GOD lands on them with his club is in time to the music of drums and pipes,
GOD in all–out, two-fisted battle, fighting against them.
Topheth’s fierce fires are well prepared, ready for the Assyrian king.
The Topheth furnace is deep and wide, well stoked with hot-burning wood.
GOD’s breath, like a river of burning pitch, starts the fire.
—Isaiah 30:19-22, 27-33   The Message

This is my cry, Lord! Do this to my enemies! They relentlessly pursue me. I don’t know how to fight them. I couldn’t even if I did. I haven’t the strength. Please, Jesus. I need You. Deliver me!

Please do for me as You did it for Your people long ago. Let Your words coming steaming from Your mouth. I need You in all-out two-fisted battle against my enemies. Let Your breath start the fire that destroys them. I need Your salvation

now.

Deliver us!
Hear our call
Deliver us
Lord of all
Remember us, here in this burning sand
Deliver us
There’s a Land You promised us
Deliver us to the promised Land

Hear our prayer
Deliver us
From despair
These years of slavery grow
Too cruel to stand
Deliver us
There’s a Land You promised us
Deliver us
Out of bondage and
Deliver us to the promised Land

"Deliver Us" Written by Stephen Schwartz, from the motion picture soundtrack "Prince of Egypt"

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Life, Liberty & Stop Lights

I’ve been working on a post most of the day. It started as a short one, grew longer and then became mammoth. I don’t know how much will eventually be published here, but it keeps coming like a flood and I want to follow it to its end before I edit for posting.

I’m taking a break from it right now, though. Sitting in bed, candles lit everywhere, incense burning (sandalwood — reminds me of India). Actually the whole affair right now reminds me of India, the smell, the low lights, writing in the cot that served as my bed (because I didn’t have any other furniture in my room), a cup of green tea cooling on the bedside table, headphones on, everyone else in bed, and me, sitting with the laptop or my journal capturing the events of the day, sights, smells, experiences, defeats, victories… Yeah, everything right now is like India. Except the softness of my bed… (that cot was dang hard)

Today was a good day. I wrote. Until it got too dark to see anything but the screen. And I realized the sun had come and gone and I still had yet to get out of my pjs or take a shower.

I hardly accomplished a thing on my "to-do list"; didn’t make any of the calls I’d planned, didn’t clean, didn’t do laundry…. That’s what happens when writing consumes me. I forget about the rest of the world, lose all track of time and everything I’d planned to do goes out the window. I can’t stop it once it starts. I finally took a shower and even then I was talking out loud to myself to help remember what it is I wanted to write next, where I was going with the ideas.

Sitting here tonight, knowing that I’ve accomplished so little, I feel the pressure of the ticking clock. I need a permanent, full-time job, I need to clean my apartment, and all those other I-need-to-get-myself-together-and-get-out-there thoughts pound on my mind’s door, insisting on being given an audience.

Yet at the same time, I feel extremely liberated and alive. In a way I never feel at the end of a day at work. The three days I work I leave feeling drained and depressed, exhausted and spiritually dry. That’s just not right. Something is wrong here, and I’m finally willing to look at it and ask myself some hard whys. You may say it’s obvious: this isn’t the job for me. Yeah, I agree. I knew that quite some time ago, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. Desperation for financial security will cause you to delude yourself about a great many things.

But at the same time, I see God’s fingerprints all my current work situation. And I have a strong desire to stay till they hire on the permanent person — which will probably be sometime in May. I so badly want to get things in order, get it all organized and ready so the new person just needs to show up. If I can do that it should make her transition into this crazy job a lot easier. I can’t explain why, but I really want to do that for her (whoever she is). In fact, it’s what’s made me finally want to go to work lately.

I feel caught in this weird dilemma of closed doors, current-part time work, feeling exhausted and sucked dry, internal pressure to look for more work but strongly desiring to keep the schedule and life I’ve got right now.

Barney, my counselor, told me one day about his loathing of stop lights, how he used to get so impatient, and drive his wife mad with his incessant toe and finger tapping and, "come ON!" comments at every stop light. Finally, she said something that shifted his whole paradigm on them. She asked if he really believed that there are no accidents in a Christian’s life, if God really does know everything that will happen to us and has the final say in whether it will or won’t come to pass in our lives. Barney agreed, yes, he believes that. Well, she continued, do you think that maybe God knew you were going to catch this red light? Silence…. You think maybe it would be beneficial to find out why God wanted to slow you down at just this point? Maybe look around you, really see everything at that particular intersection?

I have often wondered, and asked God, in the weeks since I heard that story, if this is a stop light time in my life. Despite my best and ongoing efforts, I still don’t have a permanent job. I work only part-time as it is. I have a lot of time on my hands. Much of that is spent in resting. I’m so exhausted these days. I feel so beat up still.

A few days ago, as I talked with God, He answered my barrage of why questions with a gentle whisper. "This is a time for healing. You wouldn’t have asked your dad to get up and mow the lawn right after his heart attack, or asked Helen to slam back into her full-on crazy fun-loving life after the years of chemo she’s endured, would you? Then why are you demanding yourself to get out there and live the super-sized people-ministry life you’re used to when you’ve had years of heart-soul-spirit trauma? This is your time for healing. Rest. Heal. Let Me take care of you."

Wow.

….Is that just wishful thinking, or was that really God I heard? I think it was Him. He’s said it several times since then. But it just seems too good — and yet scary — to be true. I’m eating away at the inheritance I got from mom and dad. Once its gone, that’s it. I’ll be broke. Oh, but I want to just live this part-time life! Live off that money. Write. Rest. Heal.

How blessed I am that I live in a country, and a time in life, where I can ask those questions and make those choices! There are others who are not as fortunate as me. They cannot even afford the time to think of such things, nonetheless live them.

Stop light or stop sign, I’m grateful for it whatever it is. Days like today refresh my soul and renew what little strength I have.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matt 11:28-30

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Structure, Spirit, Submission & Straight-Talk

Mosaic Nashville’s core team met again last night. The original plan was to go over core value # 3,  "Structure Must Submit To Spirit."

Instead, we sort of lived it out as a few details Josh needed to discuss with us took over the meeting and took us to a completely different conversational level, as well as direction… There’s so much to sort through, and some to tell, from last night. I might be writing about this for some time… then again, I might not write about it at all for a while, depending on how much settling occurs of the swirling cogitations going on in my head.

I will, in the meantime, however, share this little gem. Part of our conversation last night went like this:

Jesus: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? " (Mark 8:34-36)

Josh: I’ve always read this passage and thought, "that’s a sweet idea…. " (pause as Josh considers how to voice his thoughts)

Adria: That’s not sweet. That’s Jesus being a hard-ass.

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Congratulations Iraq!

My highest praise to all who voted in today’s elections! You are awesome! You have taken a HUGE step into the control of your country’s direction.

It took a tremendous courage I cannot even begin to comprehend to vote today. I stand in awe of you. And I am humbled by your determination and commitment.

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Heroes, Villans & Fools

Why do they make us read things like The Illiad in high school? There’s no way someone still in their early teens has any way to truly comprehend the full scope of a story like this. You have to have lived a little, experienced some of life’s pain, hardship and hard-fought victories to truly appreciate a story such as this.

Achilles is the name most remembered from this epic tale. But Hector was the true hero. He had the valor, the integrity, the humility and the humanity to be a true king. Achilles was the tragic fool. He thought he was his own master, the slave of none, the one others turned to. But he was a prisoner to something far worse that a greedy king. He was a prisoner of his own anger, and his own insatiable appetite for lasting fame.

In the end what did the Greeks gain for all Agamemnon’s warring? A city in ashes, a dead king, a slain warrior and a people in desperate need of a true leader. They needed a king like Priam, King of Troy. A true hero and warrior, a kind yet strong leader, like his eldest son.

Odysseus prays that Achilles finds peace in death. My heart ached with overwhelming sorrow for this sad, angry man and I found myself wondering if God granted him peace and mercy in death. I realize he may never have really existed. He may merely be an amalgamation of several Greek warriors whose stories eventually blended into one mythic figure. But don’t you ever wonder about people like Achilles, who lived so long ago, in lands where the God of Abraham, isaac and Jacob was not known? What happened to their souls when their bodies died? Did God have mercy on them?

How much time have I spent living like Achilles, with all the anger of the world in my heart, and a foolish drive to ensure my name lives long after my bones have returned to dust? How sad it is that we can live our whole lives engulfed in our own small stories, when God is writing such a larger, grander one with mythic parts just for us. Hector saw the larger story — and he, like the wise man in Ecclesiates 9:14-15 (who was not remembered at all), is not remembered nearly as much as Achilles. Achilles, Agamemnon, Odysseus, those who are most remembered, lived their whole lives overwhelmed by their own small stories, never seeing the true scope of Life as Hector, Priam and eventually Paris did.

Perhaps that was Homer’s point… I guess it’s time to dust off my copy of The Illiad and find out.

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Troy

I’m watching the movie right now… not even an hour into it and already the battle is begun.

Why is it that Achilles got all the fame from this war, when it appears to me Hector had all the valor? Or am I missing something?

Forgive my ignorance. It’s been a long time since I read this story. And at that time I didn’t much care for details….