burning in Memphis

As Sara Groves looks over the past couple of years, she recalls from where she's come and where she is now. From "hugging the wall" to this: "I want the wick to be gone; I want the wax to be gone. I want to burn down to the ground." She wants her kids to see her, not hugging the wall, but running with her head thrown back.

down to the ground, down to the ground.

We're singing songs more lately, ones we wrote well, ones we wrote hesitantly, many that take our listeners and ourselves over and over on our journey. This is what I like about our songs. We don't forget where we've come from--who was there, and who isn't anymore; what stones were thrown, what seeds were planted; what minds were closed, what hearts have since opened.

I hate not feeling completely safe going for a walk in my own neighborhood. I take myself on guilt trips for wanting to go walking in other neighborhoods, ones that are quieter, safer. I am staying with a friend for a few days, and it's a nice break to go outside by myself, on a walk. But the obvious difference is that there aren't as many people outside. I've gone from one extreme to the other--from people sipping their brown-bagged bottles in the noonday sun (day after day after day) to those who are so busy that there isn't time to sit on porches. This is perhaps misjudgement on my part.

But I've decided it is okay not to feel guilty anymore. I just want to go for walks. I am praying for courage to walk in the mornings in my own neighborhood, to begin making Binghampton my home instead of a place where I feel like such an outsider. It's all perception. Other people might perceive me as an outsider, but I want to stop perceiving myself that way. Self-fulfilling prophecy. I don't want to fall victim to it.



the healthy don't need a doctor; welcome to Memphis.

full house = full life

Our house has been very full, as well as our lives. Many have passed over our floors, cooked in our kitchens, slept on our air mattresses, played our instruments, sipped coffee on our porch, played games on our floor, and laughed 'til they cried. They are....

of Dutch descent...






















very good at Scottish and Australian accents... (and guitars and lyrics)


















now spending their days in Hatty and Africa....


















and introducing us to the world of High School Musical (1 and 2!)


















You don't realize what little space you need to live in until you have to share it with others. I've had to bend and stretch in ways that I didn't want to. For instance, I really like organic milk (who doesn't love antiobiotic-free cows?) But you can't afford organic milk when your houseguest goes through a gallon every 3 - 4days. (and that's just ONE GUEST.)

Some of our visitors stayed for 4 days, some stayed 3 weeks. Some were difficult, some were more joyful.

All were a blessing.

God is continually revealing little bits and pieces of our calling in life, callings that I believe are present for all Christians, and callings on our lives as individuals and a couple. I'm reading a terrific book, that is answering many of my questions about how to take care of each other, both physically and spiritually. Hospitality is on my mind a lot lately, and God is giving us many opportunities to flesh this out. I wonder, are these opportunities present for us all the time? They've come across our paths, quite effortlessly. Do we routinely ignore the call to take care of each other? Are we doing it best we can? And what does this look like for each of us?

I look forward to including each of you, my brothers and sisters, on this intense journey, as we are forced to re-evaluate everything we've been taught and shown about individualism and privacy and self; about sharing, community, and selflessness.

Join us......

beauty and the mess, the mess, the mess...

beauty today, outside. sun, wispy clouds, blue-ness. beauty, indeed.

the mess of my soul. yes, inside I have felt like a mess. one who doesn't take time to get it together, to breathe, to sit, to pray, to feel the Spirit fillingmy empty places, my lungs, my holes. I have so many holes. when I have the time to be still, I don't want to. yet, I crave it. what is wrong with me? help, Jesus.

hospitality. decisions. life-interrupted. the Good News. the gospel of Jesus. the tough parts. following, not just believing. it can drain your soul, if you let it. if you try on your own strength, which perhaps I have done for too long.

there will be a cookout on Saturday. we're starting a neighborhood association. how did I get roped into this? didn't I say I was excited? did I lie? have I become discouraged?

I must pray; I must trust. I must live every day, trusting on provision. I am not real good at this!

Jesus, come.

motionless

yes, motionless. That's how I find myself this morning at any attempt to do.... work. It's beautiful outside; that's where I want to be. Memphis weather isn't always this great, so I need to snag it before it's gone. But that's not the real reason I can't keep my hands busy today.

Today I want to stop. I'm tired of getting phone calls about financial assistance and not having the answers. I am not the Church; I cannot fix everyone's problems. I am a part of the Church--a member of the body of Christ, but I cannot do everything. Not that anyone explicitly asked me to, but it's starting to feel like it.

It's hard to bridge gaps; it's hard to try to teach people to be the Church.

Let me be idealistic for a moment; Church--let's wake up and start taking care of each other! It's my hope that one day I can pick up the phone, hear this concern/request, and then call on a small group of Christians to take on this need as their own, seek the source of the need, and meet it.

Taken advantage of. This is most people's concern, to be taken advantage of. My answer is--you will be. That's what happens when you enter into relationship, things don't go right, they're hard, they're messy. This is relationship, community; this is life.

more to come.

sounds

"Where do you think it comes from, what I hear?"

"I think it comes from all around you...
it comes through us... some of us...."

"So, only some of us can hear it?"

"Only some of us are listening." [from "August Rush"]

We're all talking, talking, talking. It's been too long since I spent time (good, quality time) with folks who don't have it figured out and aren't afraid to admit it. You can only hear the answers for so long, and then you want to jump out of your skin, turn to the guy next to you and say, "You know, this whole 'What's the point of life thing?' Yeah, well I don't always get it either." But then I'd jump back into my skin, so it didn't look like Abbye was admitting that; she might get the turn of a head, or the mark of a pen, or the boot out the door.
So, I'm needing to be with people who are nothing like me and just like me.

those moments. I know you recognize them. I most often recognized them when I was walking across the campus of Southern Miss, by myself... when the wind comes barreling in from behind, out of nowhere! And you felt it. Something. It happened this morning, walking from my car into the building that houses the Church (ah, yes.) and the wind is swirling all around me. Signs that a storms a'comin. No surprise, it's been storming a lot in the 2 + months we've been living in Memphis. Anyway, the wind blew my hair all up in a dither and the temperature felt just less than perfect and I didn't want to leave it. I felt, in that moment, free because no one was asking an answer of me; no one was there to interrupt the whirlwind. The roar of the winds lets you drown out not only all others, but perhaps mostly, it lets you drown out yourself.

let the wind roar.

"Give me enough food to live on,
neither too much nor too little.
If I'm too full, I might get independent,
saying, 'God? Who needs him?'
If I'm poor, I might steal
and dishonor the name of my God."
[Prov. 30:8-9, the Message]

It gets this way; you don't know how to fix all the problems, so you start wondering why you're even trying to do anything, anything at all. I know Marlon feels this way. He sits with the same guys, with the same addictions, dismissing him in the same manner, day after day, week after week, and year after year. The story doesn't change much. He can make the call, he can get him into rehab. He has the connections to help this person not only move toward freedom from addiction, but also find housing, clothes, and job skills. Marlon has these connections. And still they refuse. Oh, there is the occasional (in every sense of the word) positive response. Clean for a few months. Abstinent for a few weeks. But it's a heart condition, and this is what Marlon knows, this is what we know, this is what we want all to know. That you don't have to live in bondage.

But still, the man at the car wash, who lives with the shakes, drinks hydrogen peroxide because it's cheap and somehow gives him the illusion that it's as good as the real thing. And he, day after day, refuses help, refuses to dial Big Dog's number, to let him pick him up and carry his burden for him. This is familiar. This is all he's meant to do. This is his "freedom," and so he stays at the car wash. He answers to know one. Yet his insides, including his heart, are slowly burning away.

Heavy week.

Ten children who I desperately wanted to shelter under the roof of my home, who were terribly surprised by my request for a hug, but so willing to give it. Do they ever get hugs? Or are they constantly made slave to the requests of their crack-addicted mother and tired and helpless older sister? What will happen to them? How can I stay in their lives? Answer, please! God, help us, ANSWERS!! Why, why, why, and how could this happen? WHERE DO WE BEGIN?

This is what happens when I think on it too long. You go through these cycles or deep grief, of anger, of helplessness, and too often, final retreat.

"This is a large work I've called you into, but don't be overwhelmed by it. It's best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won't lose out on a thing." [Matthew 10:42. the Message]

We're all just doing our best to make it through and shine our love heavenward and thus, outward to our neighbors, to our brothers and sisters, to each other, any and all.


Trying....

one month too long

gosh, I'm usually such a good blogger...

And I've missed writing, I really have. I'm having writer's block when it comes to songwriting, which really gets me down. Am I losing my ability to express myself in song? Am I just no good at it anymore? Am I just not inspired enough? I've had dry spells before, but I've usually come out of them by now.

I ache for another woman to have rich friendship with, the kind you go to have early morning breakfasts with and be really honest about even the things you dread being really honest about. I miss Aislinn something fierce, and I wish she were my next-door neighbor. Ah, but amidst those missings, we are experiencing a lot of newness here. We are making some great new friends and making new decisions.

I'm seeing money and possessions newly, too. Ronald J. Sider (author of 'Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger') has challenged me with the idea of ownership. The concept of God's ownership over things in our lives isn't something new to me, but I have never been challenged to take it seriously, to actually acknowledge and practice this. God's money, God's home, God's life. I mean, if everything "I own" is really God's, then shouldn't things be a lot different? Yes. It's actually freeing to grab hold of this. Difficult, but freeing. Yeah, so I'll let you know how that comes along.

Sleep would be good.... now.