I've been meaning to blog a lot lately, but this week has been crazy. Tomorrow we enter into a weekend-long time of learning what is God's heart for our brothers and sisters who are poor and oppressed, both here in Memphis and around the world. We'll lead others from Christ United Methodist through some decision-making and tough conversations as they will likely be outside of their comfort zone much of the weekend. Won't I even be outside of mine? Do I know what it means to go without food and a shower?

We by no means proclaim that this weekend we will "arrive," that we'll know what it means to live a life of poverty. We are fully aware that we aren't even scratching the surface. But we do know that in our white, affluent church, we must start somewhere. We must walk these friends by the hand, a little closer to the heart of the matter.

My friend and brother Matthew said, "Reconciliation can only happen when we submit to the fact that we are all equally valuable in the eyes of God." And so it is. This is why we are going this weekend; this is why we are stretching ourselves... not to be saviors, not to put ourselves in a place of status above those who are "poor," but to know our brothers and sisters who the world says we cannot be in communion with because we are too different, who we are taught to ignore and cast off. From the same Family we came, and Christ came to save us all. We must see the eyes of Christ in each other!

Pray for us as we come together...

Until Sunday..

houseguests, galore!

It's true; we love to have people in our home. And not just the occasional dinner. Yes, we're a bit obsessed. In fact, for the past two weeks we've had 5 different people stay over night (Matthew - 3 nights, Jay - 2 nights, Clifton - 1 night, Amy & Tracy - 4 nights) plus several dinners mixed in there (chicken enchiladas, black bean curry), and 9 college kids sitting in our living room floor asking us about our lives here in Memphis. There's been lots of dance-partying, dish-washing, laughing, coffee-making, special K bar-eating, and onion-growing (more to come on that.)

And we (Jeff and I) crash in bed every night and say, "How did we get this good life?" These folks are gifts from God. There's so much beauty breezing in and out of our doorway, that I can hardly keep up. What we learn from others, what we get to share with them-- Ahhhhhhhhhh!!! that was a scream of delight.

Onions.

So the Pates/Forlines/Kizzee/Walkley Neighborhood Garden is officially underway. She's been tilled, and the indoor seeds have been planted now for 2 weeks (onions, mini-bell peppers, and tomatoes.) They've all sprouted, particularly the onions (which are at my house). They're growing so quickly... I'm so proud. :) It's a lot of work from the seed up... watering them once or twice a day, keeping them fairly warm, putting in the sun for a few hours a day, making sure they're draining, keeping them under a lamp for warmth, etc. Phew! But when those little guys began to peek through the soil... man, oh, man I was one happy mama! Maybe I'm just going to raise vegetables instead of children for the rest of my life? :)

The potatoes go in the ground either this weekend or next weekend, which I'm COMPLETELY PUMPED about. I love potatoes. My grandma used to call me a potato head, and it's totally true. I think I could have them for every meal!

More to come on the garden... and the house parties.

If you're in town, we're playing music (Matthew Clark, Jeff, and me) at Christ Methodist (4488 Poplar Ave., 38117) tonight, 7pm! Fun times lie ahead...

Grace and peace, Family..

Daffodils... the bravest of flowers. At least 2 weeks ago, we noticed a little patch of daffodils growing next to our broken sidewalk. They're not strategically placed or growing in a neat sort of way, they are just there - bold and beautiful in all their splendor of yellow and green!

Then it snowed, 3 inches in our front yard, we are sure. Winter snuck up on us again, despite our glowing smiles as we saw Spring approaching with all the 60 and 70 degree days we'd been having. Then the snow, which might I add, actually stuck around for a few days!

But as the snow melted away and the ground underneath made its reappearance, we stepped out onto our porch only to notice our yellow and green, proudly welcoming the warmer days to follow. They made it; they survived! Our daffodils - so strong and brave. And they're everywhere, all over Memphis it seems! I don't know much about daffodils. Do they grow wild? Did some seed happen to fall there at one time? I seem to find them in odd places all over the city.

At our house, as I said in earlier in the post, they are next to our broken sidewalk, which says something meaningful to me. They're adding such beauty to what seems kind of sad and in need of repairs, not unlike Jesus; not unlike how we are to be living as followers of his Way.

Daffodils... making beautiful what is broken. I feel today like we should be like these daffodils. Coming out and braving the world, even when it seems to be against us. Risking life for the cold. Choosing to bloom where it's planted (or wherever it happens to fall), favoring the broken and forgotten places where people need to see beauty the most.

Christ in us is at work. Let's make beautiful what is broken.

Jesus at the Bus Stop

There's a woman sitting out at the bus stop, and she's been there for more than 24 hours. Sometimes sleeping, sometimes walking, but always there, at the bus stop. And it's cold and rainy today. But can we see the stranger and invite her in? Is there room in our home where 4 poeple are already dwelling, with more soon to come tomorrow night and through the weekend?

I've been dwelling on it all day.

Then I found this a few moments ago....

"In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all these people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness...I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate..." [from the Diaries of Thomas Merton]

Last week, while visiting Duke, I think this happened to me... I think I awoke from a dream of separateness. I walked around with tears at the edge of my eyelids all week, wanting to burst out in smile, maybe even take someone aside and stare through their eyes and find the beauty. Although almost everyone who passed me was cold and disconnected, as we seem to be so accustomed to portraying ourselves, I felt overcome, like somehow my soul was seeing through them, to something that I don't recognize with my human eyes, but Christ in me certainly did recognize it. It's still happening, even today, this overwhelming awakeness...

I hope I never fall back asleep. Keep waking...

Underneath the surface of it all
is the aching for the trumpet call
when we cannot feel the weight of all the we have sown...
[when will He shine light on all that hides?]
(a. pates, m. clark)

my big house makes me feel good

the lies we believe. I'm watching PBS (which I just really love), and right now I'm watching a show that highlights big A houses, with their custom made doors and cabinets, granite countertops, grand winding staircases, and MUCH, MUCH MORE! So much money spent on this grand space, a space that doesn't even feel lived in or cozy. But it's a status symbol isn't it? These folks are now on TV, even if it just local. And their friends can come over and "Ooooo" and "Aaaaaahhh" at their home, further affirming them that they are people of worth because their house is so huge and pretty and fancy. Do we really believe these lies?

__________________________

I'm going to Durham, NC on Tuesday, to spend some time with Aislinn and Matt. It feeds my independent self that sometimes wants to get out and being able to fly alone is one the ways I feel the most independent. Don't get me wrong, I'm not so independent that I can't work with other folks. I know that would mean death to my marriage (and defeats the purpose of the Family of God), I'm just not going to lie that when I get to do something solo sometimes, I kind of like it.

__________________________

I'm not saying a big house is wrong. When we fill it with friends and family and have people around our dinner table. When we open the extra room for the stranger, then we might need that big house to serve and love people best. what I am saying is this...

Don't believe it. Your fancy house just gives you an expensive padding for your bottom and a silver spoon in your mouth and might even make it harder to follow the Christ whose life oozed with simplicity.

Lord have mercy on our lifestyles and the ways we seek the world to affirm us.

Lord have mercy; Christ have mercy.

Right now, I'm taking a break from recording. Yes, Matthew Clark is here with his traveling recording equipment ("Where did you record?" - "Suitcase Studio," I reply.) It can be quite exhausting to record, and though I've been looking forward to it for quite some time, in some ways I'm looking forward to it being completed. I don't dislike recording altogether, but I don't love the way it has you look at your music, with a painfully critical ear, making you nervous and overly conscious over every single note that escapes your mouth. I miss more guitar chords and squeak out more off-notes than usual. Yes, I prefer house concerts and living room praise choruses and shower-singing. 

Yet, I've also discovered something else today, that recording is like a spiritual discipline. 

Not in the sense that you are doing it all the time, but in the sense that sometimes you don't want to; it is hard, and it is necessary. Matthew said today that when we write songs and play them live, they are developing... changing and forming into their best form. Then, we are ready to record them, to make them solid and complete. They've been tried and tested, and so we need to do "finish" them (though they live on and on and we continue to play them over and over and over...) This helps us even move on in writing more, to change and grow, to see new experiences through the lense of song-writing. I can often feel an experience even more fully by putting it into a song, singing it over and over makes it even more real to me.

I am resting right now, as Jeff is in there putting drum tracks over my vocals and guitar. Matthew will go home and add some bass, some harmony vocals, etc.

 

Together, we'll make this music complete. What's best about recording is the togetherness of it all. I need Matthew; I need Jeff. We do this together.

"What is the Church for, if we don't reach out and hold the hurting?" (j. casper)

It's easy to forget what we, the Church, are for; it's easy to stop digging through the junk we call "church", to stop doing what it is we are to be doing and love like we're supposed to be loving. I won't even pretend I have a perfect paragraph or "how-to" for us... I just know that we're so often not doing it. But I try not to sit around and complain about what we're not doing, and instead work towards helping my brother and sisters (and myself) become betters lovers of God and people.

It doesn't take long, though, to start giving up, to let our posh, American, selfish lifestyle suck the life right out of us, and almost quit altogether. It's easier to start picking out carpet colors and song styles that better suit our tastes, than to tear down walls of racial divide and sit on the curb with a homeless drunkard who is lying to my face and still see the face of Christ in him.

It's easier to just suffocate than keep gasping for air.

Ah, but tonight I was so encouraged. It takes one conversation, one soul to help you get going again. We are not alone. Josh is easing through Memphis on a road trip that's just beginning, but he's come into our home with his quiet smile and given us new hope, that our Love is not in vain and that all over the world people are wrestling and struggling. I love it that our brothers and sisters stand with us in solidarity and give us nudges and keep us going.

Sometimes I feel like I'm just climbing a sand dune, taking one step, only to slide back down, maybe even further back than where I started. We are a hurting and broken people, us world-dwellers, and very few of us have felt the spark, fanned the flame, and lived into the Love that put on flesh for us. Very few of us rest in that. And so we sit on curbs and give away some money and move into the abandoned places; we take risks and open our homes and put an extra place setting at the dinner table. We give ourselves away.

Friends, it is so much more than the style of music and order or worship at the 11 o'clock hour on Sunday. We've got to know that.

thank you, brother.