ran·dom [ran-duhm]
– adjective
proceeding, made, or occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern

cog·i·ta·tion [koj-i-tey-shuhn]
– noun
concerted thought or reflection; meditation; contemplation

me [mee]
- pronoun
someone jotting down thoughts, reflections, meditations and contemplations with no definite aim, reason or pattern.

I hope you find it useful...

Sunday, 22 April 2007

tour guides?

Last week, I had a conversation with my friend Andrew Turner, during which we were discussing spiritual direction. I was saying how I've been more and more taken by the importance of leaders (youth and young adult's leaders in particular) being spiritual leaders - people who assist those they are walking with to listen to the rhythm of God in their life.

Andrew made a profound comment which I intend to think more about. He talked about the difference between a tour guide, who goes with you on your journey, and points out important landmarks/icons that you might miss, as opposed to someone at an information desk, who gives you a brochure, and leaves you to find your own way.

I like the analogy of spiritual direction being along the lines of a tour guide - I am there
as someone who has walked the route a bit more than the person I'm "guiding", to make sure nothing important is missed, but not to be one of those irritating tour guides, who never lets you explore anything on your own, or who talks so much that you never get to really experience it for yourself. Clearly, I'm going to have to go on some guided trips to some exotic locations so I can learn more about being a tour guide...

Wednesday, 18 April 2007

finding rest

I was reading through Hebrews with my friends Luke and Simon a couple of weeks ago, and was taken by 4:9-11a...

So there is a special rest still waiting for the people of God. For all who enter into God's rest will find rest from their labours, just as God rested after creating the world. Let us do our best to enter that place of rest.

Part of the reason it stood out to me was because of the tiredness I feel at the moment, but since then, I've read or heard people talking about Sabbath or rest 4 or 5 times (obviously something I need to think about, right...?) As I've reflected on it, I've realised that most of the time I think about Sabbath or rest in terms of what I should not do - I shouldn't work, I shouldn't think about ministry, I shouldn't do certain things, etc. I've been trying to work out what re-creates me (don't have any real answers yet), so that I can do whatever that is as part of my rest, but I've also stumbled across something I've never heard anyone talk about before.

Andy Stanley spoke at the Willow Creek Leadership Summit last year, and he talked about the trust involved in making his decision to work 45 hours a week, so that he could make family the priority it deserved (feel uncomfortable about that idea? Maybe you need to think about it a bit more!) In doing that, he's had to throw himself back on God and say "God, I've given all I can, you need to do the rest" - something I think a lot of us don't do often enough.

But here's the bit that stands out to me. Sabbath is actually about trust. Sabbath is less about what we do (or don't do) and more about getting perspective. When I choose to have a Sabbath rest, I stop doing long enough to realise God can accomplish anything he wants without me, and that's very freeing. That's why it's a spiritual discipline, because it's (as I am starting to think most spiritual disciplines are) more about recognising who God is and what God's doing than it is about me.

To take a Sabbath is to hear God say remember who's the one who's actually at work here - you're a participant, sure, but it's my work. It is to hear God say this is about far more than just what you can do. It's to hear God say I'm at work in the hearts and lives of the people I love, so rest in the assurance that it's not all on your shoulders. It's to hear God say "I will give you rest", because "my yoke fits perfectly and the burden I give you is light" (Matt 11:29-30)

Friday, 6 April 2007

woody the philosopher

I was reading a "Toy Story" book to Josh today, and in it was this very profound quote (taken from the movie):

"Look, over in that house is a kid who thinks you are the greatest, and it's not because you're a space ranger, pal. It's because you're a toy. You are his toy!" - Woody to Buzz

It's such a challenge to not let our identities be shaped by what we do (or who we think we should be). I find it so hard to understand that I am worthwhile, and it is not because of any of the titles I have or any of the things that I do, but because I am God's. Not God's toy in a negative way, but loved, adored, included, as a child loves a particular toy. I guess it's appropriate that I read that today, on Good Friday, as a reminder for why Jesus went through what he went through - so that we could truly, finally, completely be God's.

Monday, 2 April 2007

what josh is teaching me about God #4

Today, we took the kids to a playground. I never ceased to be amazed at the way Josh's confidence changes at playgrounds. At first, he'll be all over it, climbing, sliding, jumping. Eventually, though, he gets to a point where he climbs something a little higher than he feels comfortable, and he starts to freak out a bit.

All it takes, though, is for me to walk over, let him know I'm there, that I've got him, that I won't let him fall, and he can keep going.

I know I react a lot like that on the playground that is life. I get all cocky, thinking I can handle whatever comes my way, until things get a bit out of control, then I look for God's hands to hold me, to remind me that actually He's got it all under control, and that he won't let me fall. While that's comforting, it grieves me to a degree, too. I shouldn't just reach out for God when things are tough, but need to realise He's actually enveloping me all the time, and that I need to involve him consciously in the pleasure of every part of daily life, not just when things get out of control.

Thursday, 29 March 2007

trust issues

Trust is one of the the most interesting things to me. Trust is something that is very hard to define, and even harder to live out. It's passive, and yet active. It's stressful and yet gives peace. It's hidden and yet obvious.

I remember having the conversations we all do with my parents about trust - particularly about driving cars. "It's not you that we don't trust (to not have a crash late at night), it's other people". Did they fully trust me, then - to be alert enough to other people, to be cautious (not that I probably was)? Even if they fully did trust me (which I don't think they did deep down - I know they wanted to, though), I don't think they were able to trust my position in the whole situation. Thankfully, they still let me drive, and their trust grew.

I find trusting God hard on the same level. Do I trust God? I think so. I try to. I want to. But do I try to take control of situations? Yep. Do I try to move ahead of God's timing? Yep. Why? The only reason I can see
is because I actually don't trust Him completely. That's where the passive/active side of it comes in - is trust sitting and waiting for God to reveal His plans, trusting God's position in the whole situation? Sometimes. Is trust me stepping out in faith first - being active in my trust, knowing that as I do, my trust will grow? Sometimes. That's where I think trust becomes what it really is - a daily discipline. Some days, my trust will mean I need to be patient (something I'm terribly good at...) and wait, and not try and control. Some days, my trust will mean I need to do something - take a step, take a risk, trusting God has led me to do so.

That stresses me out (a ridiculous amount at times) - letting go of control, waiting; or alternatively stepping out in faith, without a clear answer before me. Yet it brings peace, because I know it's up to God, not me; because deep down somewhere I know God will act in the situation, and it's all going to be OK.

But I'm not really even slightly qualified to speak on the subject, so I'll leave it to someone I think should be listened to a lot more than me - Brennan Manning. These words have been messing with me and challenging me for 6 months now:

"The way of trust is a movement into obscurity, into the undefined, into ambiguity, not into some pre-determined, clearly delineated plan for the future. The next step discloses itself only out of a discernment of God acting in the desert of the present moment. The reality of naked trust is the life of a pilgrim who leaves what is nailed down, obvious and secure, and walks into the unknown without any rational explanation to justify the decision or guarantee the future. Why? Because God has signalled the movement and offered it his presence and his promise." - "Ruthless Trust" (p 12-13)

Wow.

Wednesday, 28 March 2007

listening

I keep being challenged about being a better listener. It's coming from everywhere, too - books, movies, although no-one's told me I'm a bad listener yet (maybe I'm not listening...) Even last night, I sat down to watch The Simpsons, and there's a repeat of episode 1305 "Jaws Wired Shut", where Homer has his jaw broken and can't talk, so he has to learn how to listen, and is amazed at the results. Sometimes I wonder if I should have my jaw wired shut so I can learn to listen to what others say, but that wouldn't help me listen to God better, I'm sure.

I think it's just like everything else in my crazy, Western, full-of-unimportance life - I'm in too much of a rush to listen properly. I can't sit and listen to someone take a long time to say what they need to say - I've got other things to do! My friend Michael Novelli posted a quote
from Henri Nouwen about listening on his blog, and I love the part that says:

"Listening is much more than allowing another to talk while waiting for a chance to respond. Listening is paying full attention to others and welcoming them into our very beings."

That's really at the core of me being a bad listener - I think my listening is about working out what I need to say to the person, not about trying to welcome another in - or even more aiming to grow in my empathy, to not only hear what the person is saying, but trying to listen to what's inside them causing them to say it.

So hard...

Monday, 26 March 2007

what Josh is teaching me about God #3

Josh has started to, at random intervals, turn to Ali or I and say "I love you, Mum", or "I love you, Dad". It's very cute. Last night at dinner, out of nowhere, he started stroking Ali's arm, and said "I love you, Mummy". It almost doesn't matter what else he's been doing, it melts our hearts.

I don't say "I love you" often enough to God. I wouldn't use it as a way of getting out of trouble (as I think Josh does sometimes...), but need to remember how much it melts God's heart to hear me tell Him how I feel.

Thursday, 22 March 2007

defrosting

I spent about 2 hours defrosting our freezer last night - what a job. It struck me, though, as I waited for all that ice to melt so that we could actually put things in the freezer, and open the drawers (yes, it was that bad in places) that if I hadn't been so lazy, and had done something about it a couple of months ago when I first noticed the ice buildup, it wouldn't have taken me so long.

Then I started thinking... How often do I let "ice" build up in the freezer that is my own life and heart, and then it takes a massive operation, with hours of defrosting to get things right. Sure, God will happily chip away for hours at the ice that stops me operating properly (and is making me more inefficient), but it would be a lot easier for him if I subjected myself to his defrosting more often. Those big emotional moments we have are often because the door won't close anymore, or because the drawers won't open, or because we know we should be able to fit more in, but because of the buildup of ice, we can't. Even more reason to daily allow God to search me, and clean me out.

Of course, maybe I could become frost-free, somehow...

Wednesday, 21 March 2007

understanding comics


I read a book called "Understanding Comics" by Scott McCloud. Fascinating book. If you hate reading, here's a book for you - it's all (and I mean all) in comic form! In it, McCloud takes us through the history and development of comics, how comics are put together, and why they have the potential to be so powerful.

Two things struck me, and both have to do with the way in which comics have the potential to powerfully shape us, because we fully enter into the stories and engage with them. The first reason for that is because (most) comics are simple drawings, and when we see a simple icon, we tend to see ourselves in it much easier than something that is photorealistic (if you don't believe me, read this book. If you can't be bothered finding the book, you'll just have to trust me). The second reason is because of the space between the panels, called the "gutter". In this blank space, we (the reader) must fill in the gaps between what happens in one panel and what we see in the next. Therefore, without even knowing it, our brains are entering into the story fully, because we have to. Out of this, what I interpret happens to move from panel to panel may be different to what you interpret might happen. (There are some lines about having your "mind in the gutter" here, but I'll leave them alone).

No wonder we all love comics so much - we engage with them almost more fully than any other source of media - books, tv, spoken word.

Tuesday, 20 March 2007

a comforting truth


We watched "An Inconvenient Truth" today. A very disturbing movie. How anyone can remain unmotivated about doing something about global warming after seeing that movie is beyond me. Go to the official website if you haven't heard about it. If you haven't seen it, you should.

One of the things that did stand out to me, though, was a continued reflection from this blog entry about Bobby. Coming away from that, I spent considerable time pondering what would have happened had Robert F. Kennedy not been assassinated and had become President. With Al Gore, it's a very different matter, because he didn't miss out on becoming President because he was killed (obviously), but rather defeated in somewhat controversial circumstances. I don't know the full history (I intend to look into it a bit further), but it looks as if Gore potentially should have become President of the United States in 2000. As I pondered with Kennedy, imagine if Gore had become President instead of Bush...

However (and this is where the title of the post comes from), I find 2 things comforting about that the fact it didn't happen. The first is that if Gore had become President, his fight to focus on global warming (which is decades old for him) would have no doubt been distracted. How could he have continued to focus on global warming while dealing with the 9/11 attacks, for example (regardless of how differently he would have surely handled the last 6 years since then...)

The second encouragement is that Gore didn't just give up, but instead has (possibly) become even more "powerful" in some ways because of the course he's taken. Maybe not from a military or economic (although possibly) point of view, but politically...? I also seem to recall Gore being the butt of a lot of jokes around 2000 about his personality, etc. Look at him now - Leonardo DiCaprio salutes him at the Oscars! There's a fantastic lesson in there about sticking to what it is you are made to do, and not being knocked off course if things don't seem to go right, but seeing the opportunities that are presented to you and taking them.