On Communion and Otherness

The eschatological dimension, on the other hand, of the presence and activity of the Spirit, affects deeply the identity of the other: it is not on the basis of one's past of present that we should identify and accept him or her, but on the basis of one's future.  And since the future lies only in the hands of God, our approach to the other must be free from passing judgment on him.  Every "other" is in the Spirit a potential saint, even if he appears to have been or continues to be a sinner.

Everyone in the Spirit is a potential saint.  And we should accept everyone on the basis of their future, which is only in the hands of God.  I can't express how much this is on my heart.

How do we live in a way that is blind to past and present wrongs, in full assurance of the power of the Spirit to transform lives?  How do we empty ourselves, subject our will to God, move to meet the other - our neighbor - when our lives are splintered?  How do we get past fear and "love the other not only in spite of his or her being different from us but because they are different from us"?  How do "we live in freedom as love and in love as freedom"?

These thoughts are too big, and I feel like I've been run over by a freight train.  I want to understand, but these ideas seem just out of grasp.  I have innumberable questions, and questions about those questions, and questions about potential answers, and further potential questions.

Pause.

Breathe.

Be still.

The biggest challenge, obstacle, wall to be clambered over gracelessly that I'm encountering is to choose joy.  Sure, it's a beautiful revelation that joy is not an emotion, but an attitude, a lifestyle to be lived in the darkest of times.  But... how do we go about choosing joy?  What does joy look like?

I see it in the relationships between roommates, like Jill and Em, like Megan and Taylor.  I hear it in laughter echoing down the hall, from Kate and Lauren and Rachael.  I experience it in the strength of embraces, from Jessica and Brian and Chris.

But in the empty moments, in the quiet hours, in the lonely days...

How can I be joyful and sad at the same time?

Choose to build bridges in order to be a witness.
Choose to accept others based on their potential for goodness.
Choose to love without bounds or hesitation.
Choose joy.

This is the article (a different edition) from which the above quotations come.

On Want

I don't want to have time to think.
I want to drown in words and work.
I don't want to have any obligations.
I want to sleep and walk and play.
I don't want to be by myself.
I want to have constant stimulation.
I don't want to spend time with anyone.
I want to lock myself in my room.
I don't want to live in paradoxes.

On Love from 465

My beautiful and amazing roommate wrote something lovely about the two of us.  You can read it here if you would like.

I love her.  So much.

On My Hope Mug

"Christ with me.
Christ before me.
Christ behind me.
Christ in me.
Christ beneath me."

I broke a mug today.  There were too many of them, all balanced on a plate as a wandered down the hallway to the sink in the lounge to wash the dishes.  Five feet before reaching my destination, my unsteady nature took hold, and gravity sent two mugs and several forks cascading to the floor.  The first ceramic cup bounced painlessly upon the hard carpet, but the other cracked cleanly in two.

I gasped, quickly set the rest of the dishes still in my hands beside the sink, and sunk to my knees.  That mug, a perfect orange in color, was broken.  The word embossed on the side: hope.  It was too symbolic.  Something cracked inside of me and I felt my eyes filling up with tears.

Jill came into the lounge while I was kneeling on the floor holding the two pieces in my lap.  She took them for me, with an "I'm sorry, honey."

When I came back to my room, laden down with clean dishes, the mug was sitting on my desk, newly super-glued.

Thanks Jill and Em. You two have blessed my life immensely this year.

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."

Holly and Jessica just reminded me quite harshly that I'm supposed to be writing a paper right now.  They are so correct.  But I'm tired of writing about Jonathan Edwards and his hybrid ideology of both Puritan and Enlightenment philosophy.  And let's keep in mind that they just distracted me for like five minutes with a dinosaur themed video on youtube.

Speaking of Holly, I really love her.  I did a bit of cleaning/rearranging/purging today.  It left me with a box full of memories, being carefully watched over by my faithful velociraptor , Ralph.  But it also left me with quite a few gaps in the collage of pictures lining the bulliten board behind my desk and the montage of photos adorning my closet doors.

When I got home frm a rainy study date in the Queen Anne Starbucks with Jill, the first thing I noticed (besides the abnormally large and slightly loud group of people enhabiting my room) was a few white rimmed pictures, freshly printed, filling the spaces I had left bare only hours before.  My dear, lovely roommate filled up those gaps with memories from this year and last: onesies, a magical group of girls, retreat, spring sun, a fourth hill barbeque.

Now when I glance up from paper writing, email composing, facebook cruising, my eyes aren't met with gaps filled only with blue fabric, empty places and spaces, but beautiful faces of people I love.

Thanks Hol.  Where would I be without you?

"Christ in me, the hope of glory."

On Winter

Here, in this office, at this desk, on this floor, I am a habitual email checker.  Seriously.  At least once ever ten minutes.  And most of the time, it's a fruitless endeavor.  No New Mail!  Thanks, Gmail, for being so cheery about that.  Somtimes I just really want contact from the outside world, to take a small break from making name tags, making copies, making phone calls.  Just a few words from dear ones.

But everyone else is in class, asleep, doing homework, frolicking in the unexpected January sunshine that's been hanging around for these past four days.

I just want to hear from you.  Is that outlandish?

We sang my most favorite song in the world last night at group.  I wrote a bit about it before.  It is just so beautiful.  And this has to be the cry of my heart, to only dwell in Him.  That's the only thing worth living for in the midst of so much questioning.

Our world is breaking.  And I'm stuck in the position of being so unsure how I'm supposed to help anyone.  I'm so lost in the midst of questioning where I'm going and who I am and what's the point of my life, that I can barely keep the relationships around me afloat, let alone spread God's love to the world.

I feel powerless.  Useless.  Idle.  Stagnant.  Small.

I'm learning too much about too many issues that I care about, and I don't know what I can do to make them any better, to reach out to those who are hurting, to be Christ's hands and feet.

Everyone is breaking.  Is it wrong to think that prayer is not enough?

And what happens when God says no?

This is enough:  "Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.  Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another.  Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.  Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace.  And be thankful.  Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing pslams, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.  And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."  Colossians 3:12-17

If my heart has one ambition,
If my soul one goal to seek,
This my solitary vision:
That I only dwell in Thee,
'Til I only dwell in Thee.

On Nothing

When I woke up, I couldn’t feel my arms.
They felt as if they weren’t my own.
I don’t remember if I really slept at all;
I might have been out building walls

How can I stand and hold up this great wall?
And if it falls then I might blow away.
What’s wrong? Can’t he see how hard I’ve tried?
I’m numb inside. I’m done tonight.

This morning found me out of action and alone.
I’d lost command of all I thought I owned.
My friends all called me to make sure I was well,
But I never made it to my phone.

How can I stand and hold up this great wall?
And if it falls then I might blow away.
What’s wrong? Can’t he see how hard I’ve tried?
I’m numb inside. I’m done tonight.

All this potential has messed up my whole day:
A storm of times and overlapping things.
This information has left me overwhelmed;
I’ve no idea where I should go.

How can I stand and hold up these great walls?
And if it falls and I might blow away.
What’s wrong? Can’t he see how hard I’ve tried?
I’m numb inside. I’m done tonight.

Numb - Barcelona

On Leggings as Pants

They're not.
Stop wearing them like they are.
Yes, this means you in Psych with the black and white checkered ones.