brother moon, you are so haunting.

Whispering from the bedroom floor
while light lays itself to sleep
and pulls the covers up tight,
beckons us follow
the hues dissolving from the sky
and breathing the cool spring air
reminds me that life is in here, in there.

revealing myself again--
the darkness night can not absorb,
proclaiming so nakedly
my need for love, my need
that it makes my soul shudder
at its own weakness
at the depth of this abyss inside
but your quiet pauses
speak louder than a thousand
phrases that I am, I am.

and she said never hide,
but oh how frightening the monsters
and nightmares can be
when they are only inside

and this is home, where my heart can rest
not the building or the trees
but the wonder. And had I always woken
at your window where "france blooms" and
the light strays across my face,
wrapping its arms around me
like a lost child looking for a lover,
a lover. Would I be waking from someone else's dreams then?

and beauty is not an end in itself
but her eyes can be so hard to resist
and love could be destroyed by beauty
if she were all we sought

but, You are the spring air
that reminds me that life is in there, in here.
And You are the sunlight that awakens me.

Hawthorne & Jesus

The last week I've been alone as my housemates, except Nate, have moved home, so I've occupied myself with homework, spending time with Grace and Jesus, curled up in Powell's, drinking coffee, trips to Portland State, and watching Little Mosque on the Prairie.

Today I was reading Hawthorne (for my Literature class) at the little Food for Thought Cafe. I forgot how interesting an author he is. After which I read his letters to Longfellow (how is it that all the authors used to be friends? Anyway, it brought me so much joy to read the affectionate, real personality in communication. Hawthorne was amusing, (I found myself laughing all alone at my table- I always imagine people think I'm crazy)-- telling stories to Longfellow or his wife about trying to learn to milk a cow (and he lived on a commune for a bit!) and how the cow's stubborn personality was like a woman they knew.

I couldn't suppress a smile and I just felt that warmth of joy bubbling inside me-- my heart hibernates at times, but oh it beats so strongly in the presence of Christ. Books can rejuvenate me like nothing else. I hope the same for my future that the stories and deep impressions of beauty in ordinary people can someday spill over into a story that would bring this smile to someone else. joy. that unexpected, piercing pleasure that bubbles up by God's embrace-- though it comes through the most unlikely sources and can't be felt in the physical, in the Spirit it lingers. I am so inspired by His love and creativity and glorious, confusing, earthly children. Our spirits aspire to heaven and our soils toil on earth-- the smile plays on my lips, something so deep within my heart, as Beatrice (Hawthorne's characters says)- "My spirit is God's creature, and craves love as its daily food." and Innocence mission: "there's a sudden joy that's like a fish, a moving light, I thought I saw-- rowing on the lakes of Canada."

and this is the intensity of an empty life... [Andrew Murray| Humility] -- "to seek a humility which will rest in nothing less than the end and death of self; which gives up all the honor of men as Jesus did, to seek the honor that comes from God alone, that absolutely makes and counts itself nothing so that God may be all, that the Lord alone may be exalted."

"Wash me and I will be whiter than snow." I am so thankful that redemption is a process, that God is faithful and knows my weaknesses and takes me through trials to perfect my faith. We have so far to go, but like Brian (my friend from DTS) talked about last week in comparison to Mormons who seek to become gods-- we seek not to become God, but to emulate him like a son does a Father, but our end goal is not to become something worshiped but to spend eternity worshipping Him. And that is the goal I fall short of, of living not to be good or moral-- but to worship Him and bring people to worship Him. On the surface it can look the same, but deep within the cracks and crevices of my heart need to be filled by Him, my motives must shift... I am just full of love today-- to gaze on Him.

i'm rambling, i'm listening to Leonard Ravenhill's Fire on the Altar... I think in a long time I have not thought, 'break my heart for what breaks yours, God' someone I forget who wrote about how when our love for mankind grows, it can sometimes diminish our love for the person right next to us-- like we're focusing on the huge picture and loving the world- but we overlook the person next door who needs to feel and see that love.. and I feel like that in my life at times. Yesterday was Pentecost Sunday... oh for a fresh breathe of God's spirit in us, that we would be filled with the knowledge of the love of God that brings down our pride, our self-- that we would stagger under the majesty of God... I want Him. Over and over. And no matter how deep I am it feels dry because He is real and He is life... and I want to taste the reality of that. I want my heart to be torn apart, slain, so I am more like Him. I feel so weak. Like Jim Elliot said, "Lord light these idle sticks and may I burn up for you." "my life for the gospel" those words ring with metallic emptiness in my life though they burn in my heart... but oh someday- today- even now... my desires must change to be more and more true to those words... "whoever would lose his life for my sake and the sake of the gospel will find it." It's becoming more and more an ache- to live only for Him, though my self and flesh are ever fighting against that. ... surrender is difficult but I want to lose this life. I want to die to myself. "I am crucified with Christ therefore I no longer live but He lives in me."

"Make me a captive, Lord, and then shall I be free... imprison me within your arms and strong shall be my hands." (english hymn)

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could wrap around our hearts the truth that He is all- that His presence which is never apart from us is the fullness of joy. The Spirit of God dwells in us, He has made our hearts His home. We have become part of the living mystery.

fear.

I should be concentrating on one of my many homework assignments. I have a killer week... tomorrow: 5pg. paper, news anaylsis, case study, and weekly responses due. friday-sunday 9am-5pm class. mon-wed working with a back-to-back shift (which means 11pm, spend the night at the hotel, 7am work till 3pm. crazy.) and Daniela and Hannie will be moving out. Everything in life seems to happen at once.

but, I got to see Brian from DTS this week and it was lovely. It honestly made my month, haha. He said something, "I think deep down you do really know what you want to do and what God wants you to." And he was right. But, there's this thing in my life... fear. I hate to not be in control. I hate having to rely on other people, or God. Little fears gather in the back of my head accumilating like snow... the fear of leaving comfort, the fear of being alone, the fear of learning a foreign language, the fears of inadequacies, the fear of forsaking stability. And before I know it there is a blizzard blinding me from the sight of Jesus and the promises I claim to have faith in. Fear is a tricky thing, because it disguises itself as being reasonable, as being prepared... but, sometimes all thats left to do is jump in boldly. But, the more I've been thinking what I'm afraid of, the more I realize that Jesus has already spoken to those fears. Fears demand trust. It's so hard, so not what I want to do-- as much as I idealize the simple, adventureous journey of listening to God's voice parts of me cling to stability and control. But, the road always forks where you have to chose between Love and fear. and... "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear."

so, I'm just going to have to trust. And, it excites and terrifies me.

Lessons from Native North Americans

Reading Elias Boudinot's An Address to the Whites, he used a scripture I hadn't read in awhile that is beautiful. He was the editor of the first Cherokee (and native American) newspaper. Unfortunately his eloquent words didn't prevent the genocide of his people. Also reading Chief Seattle's speech has some challenging confrontations to Christianity that still apply today to our actions in the world and the God we represent.

So, Chief Seattle's words, "Your God is not our God! Your God loves your people and hates mine. He fold shis strong rpotecting arms lovingly about the pale face and leads him by the hand as a father leads his infant son-- but He has forsake His red children... The white man's God cannot love our people or He would protect them. They seem to be orphans who can look nowhere for help. How then can we be brothers?"

Africa's been on my heart a lot lately, and I think that passage made me think if they would not ask the same question of God's existence and our "brotherhood" when we fail to be the representation of Christ to those in need. Last night I had a dream I was getting on the plane to go serve with YWAM there, maybe it was a premonition. :]

And the verse Boudinot quotes (in context) Acts 17:24-27, "He is the God who made the world and everything in it. Since he is Lord of heaven and earth, he doesn’t live in man-made temples, and human hands can’t serve his needs—for he has no needs. He himself gives life and breath to everything, and he satisfies every need. From one blood [one man] he created all the nations throughout the whole earth. He decided beforehand when they should rise and fall, and he determined their boundaries. His purpose was for the nations to seek after God and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him—though he is not far from any one of us." So beautiful.

***
On a continued note, of Chief Seattle's Speech, I love these closing parts:

"Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plan and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along hte silent shore, thrill writh memories of stirring events conneted with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors and our bare feet are concious of the sympathetic touch. ... And when your children's children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathles woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land. ... for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds."

had to say.

Lately I have been itching to write, but there seems to be an overload of just what I want to say. But amongst thoughts on art, consumerism, status quo, and class that are probably more interesting and actually I'd rather write about-- this has been bugging me the most.

McCain has said that he see's the real issue facing American how to deal with the challenge of radical Islamic extremism, and his running platform has been all about his foreign policy experience and knowledge of the Middle East, etc. BUT he's not only once, but repeatedly mixed up information- interchanging Sunni for Shiite and misidentifying who is supporting who. THESE ARE MAJOR DIFFERENCES.

To quote an article, (from the Washington Post)-
"He said several times that Iran, a predominately Shiite country, was supplying the mostly Sunni militant group, al-Qaeda. In fact, officials have said they believe Iran is helping Shiite extremists in Iraq. Speaking to reporters in Amman, the Jordanian capital, McCain said he and two Senate colleagues traveling with him continue to be concerned about Iranian operatives "taking al-Qaeda into Iran, training them and sending them back."
Pressed to elaborate, McCain said it was "common knowledge and has been reported in the media that al-Qaeda is going back into Iran and receiving training and are coming back into Iraq from Iran, that's well known. And it's unfortunate." A few moments later, Sen. Joseph Lieberman, standing just behind McCain, stepped forward and whispered in the presidential candidate's ear. McCain then said: "I'm sorry, the Iranians are training extremists, not al-Qaeda."

This is a BIG deal. To me its entirely disheartening to see someone who wants to lead and represent America being so... disinterested? that he doesn't have time to get his facts straight, or learn the difference between Sunni and Shiite Muslims. Epsecially while he promotes that as a strong point... even little things like not learning how to pronounce people's names... it makes him come across as "the ugly American" stereotype.

Also on a different note, if our biggest challenge is going to be Islamic extremism (which, I won't comment on) I think we really need to focus on communication, peace, cultural understanding-- not creating a new enemy for America or an us vs. them mentality. We need to be working, as individuals, to break out stereotypes and prejudices against people from the Middle East. The best way to do that of course is to befriend immigrants and refugees, Americans of Middle Eastern heritage -- already around ... but if that's too scary and uncomfortable at least pick up a history book, a novel, or watch a movie by a director/author from the Middle East. It worries me to see this 'enemy' mentality beginning and the fear and ugliness it brings out in people.

Jesus said to love our enemies, and pray for those that hate us. I'd like to see that happening, to see Americans (and more speficially Christians) reaching out to understand and relate to Muslims. We're supposed to stand apart by our radical love.

** To clarify, this note is not about politics, my point is the concern I have for our Middle Eastern brothers & sisters and the way our foreign policy and attitudes will effect them, and I want to encourage love and understanding not prejudices. I'm not attempting to be an objective journalist, so if you feel this is one-sided, good, do some studying... but, the point is this is a concerning goverment/national attitude.**

Consumption

Shortly after WWII and economist advisor wrote this which has become the standard for America...

"Our enormously productive economy... demands that we make consumption our way of life, that we convert the buying and using of goods into rituals, that we seek our spiritual satisfaction, our ego satisfaction, in consumption. ... We need things consumed, burned, up, replaced, and discarded at an ever accelerating rate."

Currently 99% of the things we buy are discarded/used/replaced within 6 months.

We see more advertisements in one year than people 50yrs ago did in their entire lifetime. Our "national happiness" peaked and started decreasing in 1950 at the same time consummerism/advertisments began to increase. What is an ad anyway except selling discontent to convince you, you need something more/new/different?

[Short movie that breaks down the whole process: www.storyofstuff.com and things to do about it: www.storyofstuff.com/anotherway.html

you watch the stars fade, they gather you back to their home.

Fearing is such a useless pursuit.
The future never occurs as I have imagined or worried about it,
and had I the foresight to worry about the correct things,
I'd never change them by the worrying anyway.

Life unfolds, like a flower. Unravels like a scroll,
revealing its deeper beauty, its deeper pain
it's hidden mysteries...
I want to wake wrapped in them.
"For, I will be satisfied when I awake in Your presence."
I love, horridly, miserably, humanly...
but as often as I weakly and halteringly stumble into the sunlight
as often as I blink before the brightness of His Glory--
I am changed.
Into a strong, braver self.
I lack courage.
I lack consistancy.
In short, I lack it all.
but my need makes me in the perfect position to recieve the One who is all.
To dependently sit at His feet. I am learning that childlike trust, its been a slow process that's taken me through a series of events I wouldn't have desired had I forseen them... but from it all arises the peace from letting things go into His hands, from knowing that grace abounds deeper than any of my failings.

Truth, not theories. Not loving and embracing ideas but realties, revelations.
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the holy consuming fire, and the voice of the wind-- the Holy Spirit.
I want the reality of the spiritual world as rich as I percieve the physical with my senses.

...and all of these things are being developed in the simplest moments of eating coffee icecream with Nano and Daniela in our kitchen, painting a flock of blue birds across our wall, trailblazing with my dad on the coast, resting my head on a table in some diner to resist a laughing spell, or wathcing people on the bus. Life is rich with the image of God, and if I open my eyes I see Him everywhere. He's near. So near.

I hurt because I am alive and until death I will hurt over the stamp of eternity, the fingerprint of God upon my heart. I will groan with creation and cry over movies and books and personal defeats and tragedies- and if I am among the blessed I will cry over the beauty, over the sensation of a glimpse of eternal things, over the smallest taste of communion with God and other men. And my tears will baptize my heart with gratefulness and wash my needy hands as they stretch out to be grasped by God. There is a dream inside me that will not die, that can't be extinguished... in that dream it snows inside my heart.

... In that dream I am finally awake.