There is a new robin's nest resting snugly in the aspen tree right outside our family room windows. The nest is just below eye level so we can kneel backwards on our couch and watch the nest without disturbing the birds doing their bird things, just a foot or two away. Right now there are three little blue eggs in the nest.
We had a cold rainy weekend. For days the mother robin spread her wings to cover the nest as she huddled down over the eggs, rain dripping off her head and tail.
We grilled hamburgers Saturday evening, just a few feet away from the nest. Every time we lifted the lid on the grill, the startled mother bird left the nest, flew to the fence and issued a frantic string of robin obscenities. As soon as we disappeared back inside the house she'd be back on the nest. At the risk of over-anthropomorphizing, she seemed to me to be sitting there sulking.
I think I know how she felt. My stepdaughter had the kind of rough weekend sleep deprived, strong-willed, hormonal, early adolescents are prone to. Every few minutes something angered her, she fluttered away squawking about her own innocence, and the guilt of whoever offended her. Generally, it was me. I, the "mature", hormonal, PMSing woman, responded by getting my own feathers ruffled. The main difference between us being that I spent the entire weekend making a less-than-successful attempt to do my own seething internally.
Now comes the part of the blog where I draw a nice neat little application, mix in an appropriate Bible verse, and tell you all how to avoid reacting to the pains and frustrations in your life the way mother robins, and I, react to our own pains and frustrations. I can't do it though. That would give the wrong impression that life is meant to be fixed, and if we just find the right formula, all will be well. Many, maybe even most Christians live that way, trying to use Christianity as an antidote to the icky-ness of life.
The truth is there is no Christian magic formula. Life is messy. No one gets through it without some pain. We hurt the people we love the most, protesting loudly that the other person is to blame. I realized at least momentarily, this weekend how very far I have to go before I reach maturity, before I am able to love God and my family the way Jesus loved. I have been told that brokenness is a necessary step toward maturity. I certainly can't boast, not even boast that I have achieved brokenness.
I can say that it is a good thing that Jesus loves me just because of who he is, and I can rest in that.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Passionate Folly
I am reading the popular book, Eat, Pray, Love. Right now I am with Elizabeth Gilbert meditating with her guru and Richard from Texas in an Ashram at an undisclosed site in India. I was drawn reading this because there are times when I would love to run away from home and travel around the world for a year. The book is subtitled "One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India, and Indonesia". The author characterized her own quest as "spiritual investigation". Elizabeth began her quest by spending four months in Italy, eating. I must admit that I am ever so slightly jealous. I can definitely picture myself devoting a full third of a year to eating Italian food. In Italy.
The problem is that Elizabeth Gilbert is on the wrong quest.
The book made me sad. Not sad is in sorry for myself because I am not reading it over a cafe table in Venice, but sad for Elizabeth. Spiritual investigation is a noble pursuit, but I think she got on the wrong train. As I read, I wanted to gently tap Elizabeth on the shoulder, and tell her I think she missed the one thing that ultimately matters. I can't judge her, all of us, every human being ever, has made the same mistake.
Like kids on an Easter egg hunt we continually overlook the prize that is hidden in plain sight, and hunt where it can't be found.
John Piper, in a personal communication quoted in Larry Crabb's manual to his School of Spiritual Direction, called this syndrome the "treasonous pursuit of satisfaction from the wrong source". All of us turn to something and demand that it satisfy, or at least numb, our thirsts. We want husbands who faithfully adore us, adventure, financial stability, good health, good looks, gelato, ... Don't get me wrong, these are all good things, but they make poor gods.
The old fashioned, out-of-style, modernly offensive word used to refer to the search for satisfaction in all of the wrong places is sin. The prophet Jeremiah speaks for God in Jeremiah 2:13 "My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water."
So, I must ask: where have I, in my thirst, strolled past the fountain of living waters in order to drink from a broken cistern that can hold no water? Have I searched for everything when I should have been searching for one thing, or more precisely one relationship instead?
The problem is that Elizabeth Gilbert is on the wrong quest.
The book made me sad. Not sad is in sorry for myself because I am not reading it over a cafe table in Venice, but sad for Elizabeth. Spiritual investigation is a noble pursuit, but I think she got on the wrong train. As I read, I wanted to gently tap Elizabeth on the shoulder, and tell her I think she missed the one thing that ultimately matters. I can't judge her, all of us, every human being ever, has made the same mistake.
Like kids on an Easter egg hunt we continually overlook the prize that is hidden in plain sight, and hunt where it can't be found.
John Piper, in a personal communication quoted in Larry Crabb's manual to his School of Spiritual Direction, called this syndrome the "treasonous pursuit of satisfaction from the wrong source". All of us turn to something and demand that it satisfy, or at least numb, our thirsts. We want husbands who faithfully adore us, adventure, financial stability, good health, good looks, gelato, ... Don't get me wrong, these are all good things, but they make poor gods.
The old fashioned, out-of-style, modernly offensive word used to refer to the search for satisfaction in all of the wrong places is sin. The prophet Jeremiah speaks for God in Jeremiah 2:13 "My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water."
So, I must ask: where have I, in my thirst, strolled past the fountain of living waters in order to drink from a broken cistern that can hold no water? Have I searched for everything when I should have been searching for one thing, or more precisely one relationship instead?
A Friend to Friend Note to You
First, I would like to apologize for the significant gap since my last real post. I attended a week long conference on spiritual direction with author Larry Crabb and then flew to California for my daughter's college graduation.
The conference was rich. There were just thirty-one students gathered with Larry Crabb, his wife Rachel, and two spiritual directors at beautiful Glen Eyrie near Colorado Springs. Dr. Crabb did not distance himself from those of us attending the conference, though he certainly could have blown us away with his impressive credentials, intelligence, and his superior spiritual maturity. Instead, he approached us openly and humbly, a man sharing the things he has learned and where he is currently on his journey. It was a rare opportunity for me to sit in the presence of greatness, to listen, learn, be challenged, and soak in wisdom from my remarkable fellow attendees.
We spent the entire week having "conversations that matter" and being challenged with the ways we obscure the truth and put things that should come second in first place, (more on that in a later blog). I have so much to chew on from what I learned. I was convicted and challenged.
I thought I would blog during the free time that week, but I found myself so deluged by thoughts, and weary from the intensity, that I simply could not do it.
Now I find myself wishing that I could sink into a comfy chair across from you with my hands wrapped around a comforting cuppa something delicious, and have a conversation that matters with you. I would like to hear where you are in your journey, share where I am, and see if we can encourage each other to focus on what really matters in the midst of it all, loving God with all of our hearts, souls, minds, and strength.
Is it possible to have a "conversation that matters" over a blog? Speaking too much and listening too little kills any good conversation, and that is the nature of this mostly one way form of communication, but I would like to try anyway. In the next days (weeks? months?) I would like to talk about where I am, what I am learning, and where I am stumbling and falling. Maybe there will be something in it that will resonate with you and encourage you on in your own journey. I would love to have a two way conversation with you, so please comment back if you have thoughts to add, or would like to challenge me to see something that I seem to be blind to. Lets sit here, in the wilderness, together.
Beth
The conference was rich. There were just thirty-one students gathered with Larry Crabb, his wife Rachel, and two spiritual directors at beautiful Glen Eyrie near Colorado Springs. Dr. Crabb did not distance himself from those of us attending the conference, though he certainly could have blown us away with his impressive credentials, intelligence, and his superior spiritual maturity. Instead, he approached us openly and humbly, a man sharing the things he has learned and where he is currently on his journey. It was a rare opportunity for me to sit in the presence of greatness, to listen, learn, be challenged, and soak in wisdom from my remarkable fellow attendees.
We spent the entire week having "conversations that matter" and being challenged with the ways we obscure the truth and put things that should come second in first place, (more on that in a later blog). I have so much to chew on from what I learned. I was convicted and challenged.
I thought I would blog during the free time that week, but I found myself so deluged by thoughts, and weary from the intensity, that I simply could not do it.
Now I find myself wishing that I could sink into a comfy chair across from you with my hands wrapped around a comforting cuppa something delicious, and have a conversation that matters with you. I would like to hear where you are in your journey, share where I am, and see if we can encourage each other to focus on what really matters in the midst of it all, loving God with all of our hearts, souls, minds, and strength.
Is it possible to have a "conversation that matters" over a blog? Speaking too much and listening too little kills any good conversation, and that is the nature of this mostly one way form of communication, but I would like to try anyway. In the next days (weeks? months?) I would like to talk about where I am, what I am learning, and where I am stumbling and falling. Maybe there will be something in it that will resonate with you and encourage you on in your own journey. I would love to have a two way conversation with you, so please comment back if you have thoughts to add, or would like to challenge me to see something that I seem to be blind to. Lets sit here, in the wilderness, together.
Beth
Monday, May 2, 2011
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