Romans 8 Ponderings

absolutely nothing can get between us...

I read these words a few weeks ago and I seem to be going back to read them over and over again.

assolutemente niente

Relationships that seemed so close and as if nothing could come between them, but one day there is a little word or action and it gets on your nerves. Slowly more things pile up and somehow a wedge has come between the two of you - and someone must take the action to remove it.

It is part of humanness, part of brokenness and the reality of my life that has had illusions and then the disillusionment that brought truth. It is part of living, I think, that we experience whatever it is that comes between lovers or friends or family, and our relationship with the Almighty. In fact whatever gets between us can be so deeply wounding that contempt and bitterness can live in the places where love and gentleness used to. Love and grace are not happy with eviction notices either!

This weekend I have wrestled with the fact that contempt and anger still live within me in ways I don't want them to. I wish they would simply vanish and gentleness and love and consistancy would be in their place! I wish that I could always be even and never hot tempered. How do I balance who I am with how passionately I want to live, to speak and share and for it all to co-habitate honourably? Sometimes it feels like the old "push-me, pull-you" story I read as a child. There were so many years spent in silence and even though I have the freedom to speak, there are times when subconsciously the old fear that no one will hear surfaces - and therefore, unaware, anger is attached. Alas it brings out arrogance and love and grace are not given space to breathe. Honouring others is missed. Unwanted pain comes between myself and others in this learning journey.

absolument rien

As I looked at this truth a friend showed me this weekend I knew it was one of those "teachable" moments" to check in and see that there are still things to be worked on in this area. (Honest friends like this are so valuable) The conversation didn't make me angry, or bitter, or reach for the defensive walls which is huge change. What it did take me to was the truth and reality of a relationship where "another" is the one who works faithfully to let nothing come between us, and this is the truth of what he does:

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing - nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable - absolutely NOTHING can get between us and God's love because of the way Jesus our Master has embraced us.

Absolutely nothing can get between us - that is a pretty safe place to be! And that is an amazingly accepting embrace that leaves no room for anything to come between us.

What Can I Prepare For You?

If a plate was placed in front of you at this moment, and the food on it reflected exactly how you feel, what would be on your plate?

I asked this question of someone recently and the reply was that their plate was empty. They apologized for not answering the question - but they did answer! This person is in a place of dispair and soul emptiness and longing for nourishment and nurture and for various deep reasons cannot find it. Our conversation then turned to comfort food and the memories of coming home from school for lunch on a cold winter day. You were bundled up against the cold and when you walked in the door you were eager to peel off the layers of heavy warm clothing and get to the table. A bowl of hot steaming, brilliant red, Campbell's tomato soup was ready for you. Soon to be loaded up with Saltine crackers too! For this person the child inside longed for the tomato soup of inner comfort yet at the same time was thinking of lobster bisque (same tomato base) as an adult comfort food. Somewhere in between the child and the adult was a hurting person who is struggling to connect the two.

Over the weekend a group was being served dinner. Baked chicken with creamy Dijon mushroom sauce, garlic mashed potatoes, steamed carrots and lemon butter asparagus, along with some mashed turnip was the evening main course. When the plate was placed in front of one person their reaction was "what is that slop?". They are suffering from severe depression and their pain could only see the indefinable, not the colour, texture or fragrance of what was there to nourish them.

Dressing up and going out to dinner often happens when we need a change and a "lift". One reason maybe, and perhaps this is more from a woman's perspective, is that when an artistically designed, flavourful and colourful beautiful meal is placed in front of us we feel beautiful. I know this to be true for there are times when I have needed to do that - go out to dinner alone - to be reminded by Abba of my own beauty and worth.

Dining out at ethnic restaurants awakens the sense of adventure within, as the music and exotic spices also bring all the senses alive through things that are out of the ordinary.

Comfort food choices are incredibly connected to the memories of how we soothed the hurt with that particular food. I believe that in our healing processes we can bring new foods into our diet that help create new patterns of wholeness.

I am sipping a cup of tea, Sadaf Special Blend with Cardamom Flavour, as I write. There are powerful memories of freedom and aliveness connect to this tea. It used to come in surprise packages in the mail to me, and it came with laughter and love. On the weekend I made a huge bowl of linguini with salsa commodore (tomato sauce), mushrooms and salami for the group lunch being served. When I lived in Italy, Signora Guilia would often make this simple sauce with tomato sauce, fresh basil, olive oil and salt. I love this sauce over pasta with a spoonful of fresh ricotta cheese! After the group had been served and I had my own bowl of pasta, I felt the aliveness and freedom that I experienced in Italia.

So I am wondering, if I could serve you something now, that would reflect what you are feeling, what can I put on your plate for you? If I could serve you something that could reflect how you would like to feel what can I prepare for you?

Quote from Nouwen

The parable of the prodigal son is a story that speaks about a love that existed before any rejection was possible and that will still be there after all rejections have taken place. It is the first and everlasting love of a God who is Father as well as Mother. It is the foundation of all true human love, even the most limited. Jesus' whole life and preaching had only one aim: to reveal this inexhaustible, unlimited motherly and fatherly love of his God and to show the way to let that love guide every part of our daily lives. In his painting of the father, Rembrandt offers me a glimpse of that love. It is the love that always welcomes home and always wants to celebrate.
The Return of the Prodigal Son, pg 108/109
Henri Nouwen

Named and Visible

There is an enormous population that feels invisible and unnamed. They are unseen, unknown, and their stories lie buried deep, waiting to be told, wanting to be visible, longing for someone to call their name. Funny how many places now you simply take a number and wait till that is called so you can transact your business. Stores even carry "no-name" brands that are lower in cost.

This week is a busy week in the home for ministry where I work as our guests this week are women from the downtown eastside of Vancouver, women who walk the streets, who are involved in the sex-trade. They are "visible" in their profession but the wounded woman who lies deep within has become invisible and the name they will give you is most likely not their real one.

As a child in school no one could remember my name, I sat at the back of the class hoping to be invisible - and for much of my life the real woman within has remained invisible. My true character and my name have always been known by Abba, but I have not always believed that. He does not hesitate to remind me:
"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you. I've called your name. You're mine."
"I'll never forget you - never. Look, I've written your names on the backs of my hands."

Being seen and being called by name are some of the essential ingredients to being in a safe place to tell our story. As I work in the kitchen, the gift of story is becoming such a rich gift and reward of my work. I love to call people by name, to say it, remember it and use it because it is part of their identity. It has often opened the door for conversations and as I mix, chop, make sauces, create the next meal - they will respond to the speaking of their name, and lay out their story. They have no idea they have added to the seasoning of their next meal - the seasoning of pain and tears has unique and precious flavour. In fact it is like saffron - it comes from deep within their beauty, is delicately retrieved, costly and unique and adds very distinct colour and flavour.

Zaccheaus was unnamed and invisible as Jesus was walking into Jericho - he did his best to remain that way too. What was his story? We are not told but Jesus wanted to hear it. By calling out Zaccheaus's name the invisibility was removed and identity was revealed - and a meal was shared!

One more reason I see to sit down at the table together and let the conversation flow - your name will be spoken, you will not remain invisible and if there is authentic community, unconditional love and grace, there will be the invitation to know more of your story. The invitation to know more of each ones story. As our beautiful guests come to the table over the next few days the only thing invisible will be the invitation from Abba - the Spirit hovering over each of us. Our names will be used regularly, stories will be heard. Grace wants to remove another layer of their invisibility and thereby reveal another layer of the Image Bearer who has called them each by name, written them each on His palm and waits for them to call His name.

More on Waiting

Waiting

Waiting at Still WaterOctober 13, 2005

Waiting is an action that causes impatience in us as children. Waiting can bring despair as adults. Waiting is often where we are in the "dark night of the soul" as St John of the Cross wrote.

Waiting has taken on some new facets as I have been reading through Sue Monk Kidd's book When the Heart Waits. She speaks of waiting as a place of great creativity, if we will let ourselves embrace it.

Biblical waiting is very often spoken of along with hope - not hopelessness. The expectation, the action of watching, while in this space of unknowns and seeming inactivity is beginning to reveal great creativity! Hope and waiting are indeed holding hands, and holding mine in this birthing process.

Sue Monk Kidd says "the process of waiting takes us not forward but inward" which takes us deeper, takes us on the journey to authenticity, and that brings us into freedom IF we are willing to wait while the Spirit leads us in the work required to move us from forward racing to inner streams of still water that restore the soul.

King David's picture of still water that restores the soul then is also a place of waiting
"Adonai is my shepherd;
I lack nothing.
He has me lie down in grassy pastures,
he leads me by quiet water,
he restores my inner person."
Complete Jewish Bible

This photo, where beauty was rolled out in front of me as I sat in the quiet autumn afternoon, reminded me that waiting is not just the dark night, but the beauty the pursues us as we are waiting, as we sink into the stillness beside those still waters.

"Counsellor Helen Luke cautions that without significant times to be still, we extinguish the possibility of growth and walk backwards. Here's the paradox: we achieve our deepest progress standing still" (pg 34 When the Heart Waits - Sue Monk Kidd)

One thing I have come to realize is that waiting causes me to pursue stillness and contemplation. In that place of stillness I also find the presence of the Spirit within,
and the presence of the Almighty surrounding me. Abba's orchestrating waiting is also the personal invitation to come and be still where the reality of what He spoke unfolds "Be still and know that I am God." Stillness calls all our senses into aliveness and in that place the soul, my soul, is eager to listen to the still waters that gently speak of and call forth passionate living.

Equations and Hospitality

It is Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada and Saturday evening I was invited to attend a dinner prepared by some of my faith community, and great feast it was! I ended up staying over in Vancouver and attending Sunday morning church with a friend. Now you have to know, going to church is something I am not in the habit of doing much anymore. Many reasons behind that decision and part of that is that I literally feel nauseated when I go into a church. That is another discussion altogether. Anyhow in the service a young woman spoke about a facility she runs that is specially to single moms - Thanksgiving is a tough time for those who have no family to gather round the table with. As is every "family" celebration time. The pastor then gave a sermon on hospitality.

Hospitality has come to mean a meal in our time but originally it simply meant to share your recourses with those in need.

Sitting listening to this sermon I wondered what I was doing there hearing what seemed to be rhetoric to me! You know, blah blah blah - how good it is to open your home and show hospitality, to bless others...and inwardly I groaned. I have spent all my life listening to the subject being discussed, it being legislated as the way to "earn" spirituality and the acceptance or shunning that occurs if you don't follow the prescribed rules of this instruction. There are those who frenetically have people through their home, like some revolving door, and others whose home is a sanctuary to which a "keep out" sign is invisibly posted at the entrance. It has long been the tool used to create exclusive clubs and the painful isolation of those who don't make the grade or meet the criteria of that social group. You are either "in or out" - to dine or not to dine. All these things came to mind as the pastor spoke. He seemed to have many words but I didn't connect.

Then it happened - no drum roll, no bright lights, no thunder from the heavens, just tears. He told a story of loss that brought emotion and tears. In that moment, for me, the sermon began. He had spoken of us inviting in those in need, which for me, gave the image of one standing up higher and reaching down to one lower. In that moment he ceased to talk at me and seemed to be on the same level as I was.

This creates the "greater than" and "less than" equation. Are we not all in need? Are we not all broken? Are we not all needing a place to share pieces of our story? I see us all sitting on the floor at a meal time, with Jesus, eye to eye, and in that place all on the same level, we share our recourses and break bread together in the tent. Or today, we all sit round the kitchen table, shoulder to shoulder, laughing, eating, reaching for more, and letting the stories be told, the tears be shed, and the fragrance of truth, humility and vulnerability reveal parts of the truth of hospitality. A place where there are no "greater than" and "less than" equations, but an equality that allows each one to be given the highest value because that is how Jesus sees them - whether they are in relationship with Him or not.

Having spent the last 4.5 years in a ministry that bring hospitality together with brokenness, I have come to see that humility, vulnerability and honesty are essential ingredients to the truth of what Jesus showed us in this whole area, and how we can be image bearers to each other as we sit round the table together.

I love the story Henry Nouwen tells of his friend Trevor - where they went off to a dinner and at the door Trevor (who was handicapped) was turned away as he didn't have an invitation, nor did he "fit" the learned status of those at this event. Henri Nouwen replied that if his friend couldn't dine, neither would he. The equation here is again that we are equal - no less than or greater than. ( Can You Drink The Cup )

Jesus invitation seemed so often to be to those who society called less than and he made them equal too. What does Jesus say about "great than"?Luke 7:28 Let me lay it out for you as plainly as I can: No one in history surpasses John the Baptizer, but in the kingdom he prepared you for, the lowliest person is ahead of him. The Message

Jesus also knew the table as a place of betrayal. Perhaps that will be another discussion.

Sitting in our home on the sofa or on the floor or at the table is a place of equalizing so that each person, whether or not they are in relationship with Jesus, knows that this time of conversation and sharing is sacred space, and safe space. Sounds idealistic? Perhaps it does but I am convinced that this is what Jesus talked about when he speaks of hospitality - sacred space of honour and trust and where story is important and held in the Light as a priceless work of art that is still in progress. A place where food is the catalyst to our coming together and from there we celebrate our "cup of sorrow and cup of joy" as we "break bread" together. There is no Kingdom caste system, nor is there any Kingdom club we belong to - the banquet table invitation is to everyone. The joy of the banquet is increased when we come in humility, vulnerability and honesty to eat together, to enjoy, and to linger.

For many years I have come to the banquet table simply to watch but not participate. But in the experience of telling the story, being vulnerable and honest, I have also found the laughter and joy that has brought me into the true equations of hospitality - eye to eye, face to face, and in His image, no matter where we are on this journey of life.

In the Sunday sermon the Spirit invited me to look more closely at Divine equations - and for that I am thankful on this Thanksgiving weekend.

Herstory

This past week has been very full of rich conversations with women that have delighted and challenged me. Several in particular have stood out but I will share a tidbit from one of those conversations. It is all part of my "work" - which I no longer see as work but as what I do because of who I am, in my co-authored story with Abba.

Many many amazing women cross my path and this week it was "B". Her smile, her laughter, her fascinating mind, her story and her wrestling in learning to honor and love her story made her very intriguing and very lovable. She is taking some courses through an organization and one of them is history, in particular the history of women in the bible. She wanted to know when they were finally going to realize that it was time to stop telling "HIStory" and call this "HERstory" class!!

I loved it.

And this morning as I sit through another wave of pain in the birthing process of freedom, this made me laugh, and relax and breathe into the next wave.

Seasoned with Salt

When I cook I prefer not to use a salt shaker but rather a salt cruse where I can feel the weight and texture of the salt between my fingers as I put it into my cooking. Contrary to some thinking, I cannot cook without salt because it draws out the flavour, and is an essential factor in making good pasta - no salt in the water, no flavour in the pasta! My elderly friend Signora Guilia told me this many times as I sat in her cucina in southern Italy. Salt went on her oranges at breakfast, into the salsa, on the lettuce along with olive oil and lemon juice. I cannot be without my sea salt in the kitchen cupboard - impossible to cook without it.

Being by the ocean you cannot miss the scent of the salt water in the air. On one of my trips to Barbados I cut my foot on the rocks over at Bathsheba. Mamita, my friend, suggested spending plenty of time in the water at the quiet beach at end of her road, where she assured me the salt water would be the best healing agent, and she was absolutely right.

You know those times when the pain within is so intense that the only release for it is tears. Tears that well up and then begin to flow down your cheeks, soaking your face and your clothing. Soon there is no point in holding them back and they flow copiously mingling with the sobbing that gives voice to the depth of the sorrow this moment is honouring and releasing. When the tears stop flowing and have dried they leave behind the traces of salt on your skin.

Seasoned with salt.

Perhaps one of the reasons we have tears is because they season our soul with salt, giving it the essence of what God's heart tastes like. A heart that knows every emotion, feels every emotion. And perhaps the seasoning in the tears allows us to wrestle with the emotions and find the place they fit in our story, in our journey, in our image bearing of the feminine and masculine heart of God. Our God weeps with us in our pain.

Sea water, so full of salt, cleanses, heals, and seasons the life in it with flavour. This dried sea salt also seasons and preserves in our culinary world. Tears - they cleanse, heal and season our soul and there is no shame in letting them flow.

In the story of the young man who left home, returning years later broken and humiliated, the father runs out to greet him, embrace him and pour unconditional love on him. The son was wrapped in warmth, and love, and although it doesn't say so, I am sure that the kisses and hugs of welcome were accompanied by tears of joy. The salt of the fathers' tears upon his broken and destitute child must have been healing to both their souls.

The prophet Jeremiah said "The tears stream from my eyes, an artesian well of tears. Until you, God, look down from on high, look and see my tears."

Physician Luke tenderly writes that "you're blessed when the tears flow freely".

Tears and their seasoning to our souls are for now, for earth, for the healing and preserving effect they were designed for - tears that connect joy and pain within the same
soul, body and mind and allow them to exist together in this earthly journeying.

"He'll wipe every tear from their eyes. Death is gone for good--tears gone, crying gone, pain gone--all the first order of things gone." (Revelation - Message)

The Almighty created us with tears for now, for this journey; tears that cleanse, heal and season our soul. Tears that the Almighty Himself will wipe away one day. Until then I will continue to learn to honour my own tears, and those of others, as diamonds in each soul tapestry.

Brokenness

Mark, over at CowPi, has a beautifully honest piece about depression and the journey of the day to day. I appreaciated the glimpse into this heart journey.

And I realized that grace and brokeness go hand in hand, if I can choose to be honest in my relationship with Abba.

Grace - I keep thinking about how little I understand grace, how much I want to know it, and how often it is being sung over me every day, and night. How much I love music and yet how deaf I am to many of the delicate notes of grace. At this moment, to be delighted in by One singing over me (Zephaniah 3:17) feels like exquiste grace. A melody of tenderness and love in our place of brokeness is a soothing balm.