Forgetting God's Providence

"Don't you remember the five loaves for the five thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered? Or the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered?" Matthew 16:9-10

Oh how quickly I forget the providence of God. I guess this isn't a new problem. The disciples of Jesus forgot too. They had just experienced two of the most profound miracles in the Bible, the feeding of a multitude with just a few items and one chapter later they were, once again, concerned that they wouldn't have any bread if Jesus forbade them to eat from the teachers of the law, the Pharisees and Sadducees. Oh, how quickly we forget God's providence.

I am in one of those periods in my life, a period of distrust, of forgetting. Getting laid off was the catalyst for my doubt. All of a sudden, I forgot about God's providence, which is strange considering the life I have led up to this point. I have been beyond cared for my entire life--not that it has always been easy--but I have made it. In fact, right after I got laid-off from the church I had a job. It is a different direction, which is what I need mind you, and it pays the bills and offers me a challenge--something I am always wanting. So, why doubt God's provision, even in the midst of being provided for? Control, I suppose. Victimization, it's easier to claim weakness. If I trust, what does that mean if God fails? But, of course, God doesn't fail, only we do.

I am in the midst of writing a book on failure as the Bible is full of thoughts on the subject. But, the thoughts are different then you might expect. You will have to wait for the finished version to find out how. In the mean time, I pray against my doubt and that God would increase my faith.

I Guess You Could Say I'm a Potter

For years now I have wanted to learn how to use a potter's wheel. I have looked into classes, perused through catalogs, and even atempted a couple of phone calls but it wasn't until last night that I actually went to a class and threw a pot. This art form is no joke!

After class, I barely made it back to my apartment as my hands were so cramped up from "centering" the clay that to grip a doorknob became almost impossible. My back spasmed as I laid down to take a breather on the couch. My calf muscles were tight from all the slowing down of the wheel. But the best part is when my friend, Inge, pulled a stomach muscle trying to get her clay to actually stay on the wheel. Throwing pots is equivilent to a full body workout. In the end, there was not much to show for it except a lop-sided, thick-walled speciman that resembledsa cat bowl (I don't have any pets, by the way). But it was all worth it if for nothing else to understand God better as potter.

What a large amount of work God has to put in to mold me. I am sure I was one of those lumps of clay that started way off center. The amount of water, strength, and will God has had to put into my life in order to even beginning to work probably left him (or her) holding his lower back in agony before clicking on the news multiply times. And I wonder how many pots of my life have been made that just don't seem to work quite right. There is too much pressure on one side and out of nowhere the entire mound collapses or the bottom walls are too thin to support the thick top, heavy lip. Or the clay that I am, wanting to be a beautiful pitcher or a large serving plate, is stretched so far and thin that it misses what it actually is created to be which is a simple beggar's bowl. There is so much to consider about the live God is molding in each of us.

At some point, if I work hard enough, I feel confident that I will have mastery over the clay and not the other way around. At that point I expect to know the joy God must feel when we throw up our hands and surrender our lives to him. Finally! Now I can actually start working.

On the Verge

Okay, I've done this before. I mean c'mon, I'm the girl that lived out of her car for two years wandering the country, taking work when it came around, living in community, or on people's couches. But to do it again, now that seems overwhelming. I lost my job last week as a result of this economy and, just like many others, find myself among the ranks of the unemployed. I have never imagined this before, I am a worker-bee for goodness sake. That's what I do, work. Slackers get laid off, right? Not those who put in 70 hour weeks. Apparantly, I am wrong. The further you move up the food chain, the more bucks are put out for you, the less stable your job becomes. So, here I sit, trying to piece it together.

I made a list, or rather had a strategizing session with my husband on recycled paper bags with Sharpies. Now, if that isn't a skill set, what is? We prioritized and came to the conclusion that top priority is to leave LA.

It is not that I haven't had a good time here. The weather has generally been nice except for those few weeks in September/October when the heat is so bad even going for a dip in the pool makes you sweat. The people have been friendly (over and over again, actually). The culture is right at your fingertips, although I can't afford any of it. Which brings me to my point, it is time to say goodbye.

The state government has failed in the worst way, there is no where to work. The fires in the hills outside my home are threatening me as I cough up a lung. And, the strip malls interspersed among outrageously priced real estate has left me needed something more. More than a water shortage, earthquake evacuation plan, and Britney Spears on the nightly news. What I need most is to be able to pay my bills without entertaining the thought of prostitution (just kidding:))

In all seriousness I have decided it is impossible to live here. I have worked hard, made it to the top, and now find myself, a year later right back to the beginning--actually past the beginning as before I at least had an income--and now, I am done. Goodbye LA. It may take me a year to get rid of you , so this is a slow break-up, but its over. I need to move on to someone who understands me a bit better, doesn't stand me up, and is a little more forgiving. I will cherish what you gave me but now I must gain a sense of myself again. Bon vogage!

Generation Y, Who are you?

I am intrigued by this generation (those born between 1980 and 1995) although I would suspect it extends beyond that. Who are you and how did you become so optimistic? As a Gen Xer I tend to live in the pit of cynicism, always seeing the underbelly of the ground. The roots may go deep but I see mostly in darkness so I can't imagine the growth of the tree, the outline of the leaves against the sunset, the shade that is provided. But, Millennials, all you see are the orange and red leaves, in a pile, large enough to jump in (with 500 of your closest friends). Who are you?

Your optimism is inspiring (albeit annoying at times and mostly unrealistic), your social networking is intriguing (although a little too public for my taste), and your entitlement (well let's just blame your parents for that one). What is going to happen to you once you start to become the main stream of the working world? I wonder if this optimism will linger once you discover there are few jobs available and the ones that exist you are over-educated for and under-experienced. Or maybe I am wrong (let's hope I am wrong) and the generation that you love to be associated with will rise up and change the entire system. Maybe you won't get discouraged like the generation before you and you WILL perservere and change the world from the inside out. The shared leadership that you aspire to could have long-term movement instead of short-term satisfaction. Perhaps you will realize this and press on--fully believing that dreams and aspirations are possible. The "WE" that you are attributed with has power, maybe you will use this power for good and seek to reform the intolerant systems that been the backbone of our country since its inception. Perhaps you will grab the baton and actually run.

From a Gen X cynic--I applaud your future. Your positivity has spilled onto me perhaps the world will benefit as well.

Love is an Orientation--Book Review

"Our savior came as the ultimate lightning rod for the hatred of difference as he became the faultless model for those who are a part of the abnormal. He was despised and rejected, and still, his life made room for all of us who choose to walk a countercultural path. The beautiful struggle, and the compassion that flows from our Christ-centered hearts, is the same compassion that we have staked our entire life on, knowing that Jesus had that same compassion on us. It's time to start including into that compassion those people who many of us have thought to be the center of all things abnormal." Love is an Orientation, pg 91.

Eye-opening, refreshing, it's about time--these are the words I associate with Andew Marin, author of "Love is an Orientation". No matter where you stand theologically on the homosexual issue, this book is relevant for you. Marin elevates the conversation.

Not too long ago I was told in an interview after being asked what I thought theologically about the homosexual debate that my answer was not sufficient--that I need to have a firm understanding of which camp I was in. I felt immediately defensive, as a firm understanding meant I remained outside the conversation. Maybe its the postmodern in my, maybe the GenX rebel but, what exactly is the debate? One thing I am absolutely sure of is that I am NOT God. Consequently, I am his follower. To be found in Him is to be found in mystery, in secret, not really understanding most things but stepping out in faith to share what he has so willingly bestowed upon me, GRACE.

Marin does not try to answer questions but what he does do is teach us how to listen--an area the church lacks. It is only in listening that we can step into the need and truly become obedient. How can I know what God desires if I don't bend my ear? How will I be able to love the Gay and Lesbian community if I open my mouth and proceed with insult? How can I hear unless I listen?

Read it. Tell me what you think. This is a conversation I have been waiting to have.

Glorious Day

I can't help but write which means I have words on my heart. What a glorious day! Easter. Easter. Easter. Maybe we should rename it Resurrection Day so there won't be any confusion with bunnies, chocolates, ham, and hunts. Resurrection Day--I like the sound of that. More so I like the thought that there will be a larger Resurrection Day at some point in the future.

A rolled stone no longer blocks the path of a risen Lord. What happened to the Roman guards at the tomb? Where did they flee? Approach is everything. The women tiptoed in sorrow, of course, to pay their respects, perhaps to really see. And see they did! Their eyes were opened in belief. Like a movie reel spinning before them--they began to connect the dots of words spoken in love but seeming delusion. There was no mistaking those words now, Yesua was gone. Missing but not stolen. As someone familar appears--go and tell the others AND Peter. Really? Are you seeing what I am seeing? Really?

Run, run, run faster, you are almost there. He was not a liar, what he said was true, and Peter he asked for you--for you specifically--like he wanted to say something particular, like you needed to hear it more than the rest of us. He asked for me? But I failed him, multiply times, I don't deserve his asking, maybe he doesn't know what I've done, maybe he will forgive me if I ask. Hurry!!! Wait for us Peter!

Sheer hope. This morning I was as defeated as defeated could be--I am not even sure I wanted to live but now HE IS ALIVE!! Now life is worth something. Now I can be forgiven. Now I can live.

National Pastors Conference

Like any true Gen Xer I am a cynic. Skepticism has infiltrated the blood in my veins and when I talk often it is with a critical bent and sheer bitterness. I am put off by anything or anyone that is "popular"--particularly in the church. If a person or an idea is embraced by the masses than it must be watered-down dogma that has been commodified to sell to another generation (but not mine--we are too aware for that). Either way, I have managed to avoid most of evangelicalism--most of mainstream Western Christianity and needless to say, in my cynicism, I am proud of that. Then...I went to the National Pastor's Conference last week.

At this conference Pastors from all over the United States, across denomination, gather together to be encouraged. Big name speakers like Rob Bell, Shane Claiborne, and Bill Hybels are the line up for the week. The author of The Shack was interviewed. Free books are given out in handfuls by Zondervan and Intervarsity Press. And music gods like Sons of Korah and Tommy Walker lead us in worship. It is a joyous occasion for most pastors and yet, as a cynical, bitter Gen Xer the entire event makes we want to hurl. Instead of being encouraged, I found myself twisting in my seat every time we had to "gather together". When the were told to "give a hand clap offering for God" I wondered what business coined that phrase. When free books were placed on my seat I thought to myself, "this must be the book nobody wanted to read so they decided to give it to us for free". And when Bill Hybels, pastor of Willow Creek, the mecca of my disdain, got up to speak, I folded my arms across my chest ready for a nap...the nap never came.

Instead, I was confronted by a humble, toned-down, serious, man who cared not about mainstream Christianity but about Christ and the things Christ cares about--like racism, inner healing, community, and obedience. This man, that I had refused to turn an ear to, embodied failure as success and offered an encouraging word to a roomful of pastors that were on the verge of burn-out. He encouraged listening, silence, rest, and "being". Things that I have not heard much about from the pulpit of evangelicalism. He knew who he was, he was not a man duped by the system of Christian marketers. And, I was not only impressed, but I was moved, and confronted with my own pride and disdain.

I still might not easily submit to mainstream Christianity but I am encouraged knowing that I am not the only one that feels this way and that there are men like Bill Hybels leading and influencing mainstream Christianity with humility. May I be so bold as to release some of my Gen X cynicism and lead the same.