tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14259868145430191672024-03-14T04:30:04.596-05:00The road less traveledI'm on a spiritual journey. Actually, I think all of us have always been on a spiritual journey. I know so much less than I did when I was younger. The only thing I know for sure right now is that God is Love and only Love is real. I'm hear to learn, talk, debate, question, change.KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-30087962306877613532012-12-16T23:04:00.000-06:002012-12-16T23:09:03.289-06:003rd Sunday: Joy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAIUUb60onBwC4-m_2MucMUJzV8Zi7MPZWdULqfoZP5JAQ3mZkhquE7UkbxUAPnvdvTUroSxhJK60OhyezIVZbFw5IXnvBDx0a1VuH8_0hW01ZqonmkyCmJiZUremPVFNscXHMaBJyelqd/s1600/Perfect.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAIUUb60onBwC4-m_2MucMUJzV8Zi7MPZWdULqfoZP5JAQ3mZkhquE7UkbxUAPnvdvTUroSxhJK60OhyezIVZbFw5IXnvBDx0a1VuH8_0hW01ZqonmkyCmJiZUremPVFNscXHMaBJyelqd/s320/Perfect.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
A confession, I don't really feel like writing tonight, and I don't think I have much to say. But I'm feeling an impending guilt from within to keep my word about writing...at least through one more week of Advent. So, here goes....<br />
<br />
The 3rd Sunday of Advent is Joy. All of today's Lectionary speaks of joy and praise, including,<br />
"<i>Rejoice in the Lord always...</i>" Philippians 4:4<br />
<br />
Those are tough words, perhaps insulting words, barely 48 hours after the horrific tragedy in Connecticut. I would never consider saying anything like this to someone who is suffering. Events like this challenge me to exam my beliefs about almost anything. On this Gaudete Sunday, it challenges me to exam what I believe joy is...<i>.a deep well of mystery that abides deep in my soul and untouched by pain, tragedy or suffering. </i>I've spent much time over the last year thinking about this very thing: joy. "How do I experience joy in my life?" "Can joy truly exist in the midst of pain?" I say that joy is different from happiness; that happiness is an emotion that is fleeting depending on how my life is going. Perhaps an easy thing to say as a simple statement. I want to believe that God=Joy. I want to believe that there is always joy <i>regardless. </i>The mass murder of kindergarteners challenges me to ask myself again, "What do I believe about God? What do I know that I know?" <br />
<br />
<br />
The fine young man in the picture is my son, TJ. He graduated from Texas Southern University yesterday. TJ has been in my life for the last 12 years. I've celebrated many wonderful memories with him, but all pale in comparison to the pride I felt yesterday watching him accept his college diploma. I have feelings overwhelming pride and indescribable joy. And today, this pride and joy is seeking to coexist among hardship and uncertainty.<br />
<br />
I know that I know: God is real and God is Love. Despite whatever pain or tragedy, this is an absolute for me. It may be the only absolute truth for me. It is to this God I pray,<br />
<br />
<i> "May the truth of Your love make a difference in our lives. May joy rise mysteriously, like the Phoenix, from the ashes of our broken dreams, tears and sadness. Until then, let us feel that You as close to us as our own breath."</i>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-24954820959338368352012-12-10T00:20:00.000-06:002012-12-10T00:29:00.059-06:002nd Sunday: You can't go wrong with Yoda<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1afD22ra85c1fM-CRPBgsRMiZ_VJ_pSdu5sz0_sCcgSahYrTCACIzTpkeDTZnxiPnBjtD8kVFtDGCvsNSaI8P2V8e-R6OOV5Od4YJAeXnzecAQvdhGQhyXJe_hrR-2vJ0iXjsdIkbij6/s1600/Yoda1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1afD22ra85c1fM-CRPBgsRMiZ_VJ_pSdu5sz0_sCcgSahYrTCACIzTpkeDTZnxiPnBjtD8kVFtDGCvsNSaI8P2V8e-R6OOV5Od4YJAeXnzecAQvdhGQhyXJe_hrR-2vJ0iXjsdIkbij6/s320/Yoda1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I have an intention for Advent season which is "to notice." Notice: ways to slow down; pay more attention to the strangers I encounter every day; the smallest of things to be grateful for; just noticing the Divine during my ordinary day. Some days I remember my intention; other days....ehh, not so much. Today, I was reminded of Advent when I read the words "light saber!" (Score 1 for "noticing" today!) I'm reading <u>Just Courage</u>, written by Gary A. Haugen. Gary is the President of <a href="http://www.ijm.org/">International Justice Mission.</a> (Please click on that link right now and read about their important work in the world). Gary writes: <br />
<i>"...When we read that Jesus calls us "the light of the world, " we picture ourselves more as a nice nightlight that will comfort the kids and keep us from stubbing our toe, than as a brilliant light saber that is heroically contending with the great evil of the world and driving out swathes of darkness." </i><br />
<br />
I love his thoughts about all of us as the light of God in the world. And I think there is room for both: being the light for those who are hurting and simply need the comfort of knowing someone is there, and being the light the boldly pierces the darkest, as Gary said, evils of the world.<br />
<br />
And how does that stellar picture of Yoda fit in? Well, I'm a huge Star Wars fan and immediately thought of Yoda when I reading. Yoda is a bad ass without a light saber, but with one? He's the ultimate bad ass. Perhaps he is the perfect leader for showing us how to bring our light into the world. Or maybe....I just wanted to work in a picture of Yoda to my blog.<br />
<br />
<i>"In Him was life, and that life was the light of all all the world. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:4-5</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-19835939626483946412012-12-07T10:43:00.001-06:002012-12-07T10:43:24.514-06:00Today's prayer<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I yearn for the stillness and silence of Advent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m desperate to not sleepwalk through the
darkest days of this season. I long to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">do</i>
nothing now, but just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be.</i> To just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be</i> in the mystery and blackness of the
womb of your Spirit that nurtures new life. “<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And quoting from <u>The Celtic Wheel of the Year</u>:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“ Before the first
snowflake, before the first glimpse of green, before the sun pulls back further
the dark drapes of day; here, in this day, give the sign of your blessing that
I may trust the new thing happening little by little this day.”</div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-86563786093108435812012-12-02T21:27:00.001-06:002012-12-02T21:27:31.858-06:00Advent 2012It's the first Sunday of Advent. I have come to anticipate this day as much as Christmas; perhaps more. Advent is my favorite season of the year. Though not a tradition I grew up in, today I can't imagine December without it.<br />
<br />
It's a time focused on waiting; expecting; anticipating. There was a time when a people awaited the birth of Christ; a Deliver from God. Today, Advent offers to me the space to remember that birth, but perhaps more so to dwell in the in- between space of anticipation and fruition. Advent invites me to reflect on miracles I've experienced in my life and those miracles yet to come. Advent invites me to wait, with joy; with hope, for what God will birth in my life next. Ironically, Advent begins during the darkest days of our seasons including the longest and darkest night of the year. Advent will end as the world (at least in our hemisphere!) begins a slow journey back toward the light. This metaphor is not lost on the journey of my own life today.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.saintrichards.org/">Reverend Shelby</a> offered us two thoughts this morning for the first Sunday of Advent. One, that Advent reminds us of<i> Immanuel</i>, "God with us." I think of "the Alpha and Omega" names for God. God has been and will always be with us. And, Advent creates a hope and longing for God to show up in our lives now in ways we haven't known before. Reverend Shelby also offered the beautiful reminder that God also finds favor with us. I felt particular connection to this truth. Gabriel told Mary that <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+1%3A30-33&version=NIV">she had found favor with God.</a> As special as the mother of Jesus was, she is not the only one among us who is highly favored. We are all the favored of God; simply because we are God's Beloved.<br />
<br />
I'll close with Mary's song from Luke, chapter one. My words would be different than hers, but the song is the same: one of joy and gratitude in the midst of the unknown and fear.<br />
<br />
<br />
-<br />
<i><span class="text Luke-1-46"><sup class="versenum">46 </sup>And Mary said:</span></i><br />
<div class="poetry top-05">
<div class="line">
<i><span class="text Luke-1-46">“My soul glorifies the Lord</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Luke-1-47" id="en-NIV-24941"><sup class="versenum">47 </sup><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span>and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,</span></span><br /><span class="text Luke-1-48" id="en-NIV-24942"><sup class="versenum">48 </sup>for he has been mindful</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Luke-1-48">of the humble state of his servant.</span></span><br /><span class="text Luke-1-48">From now on all generations will call me blessed,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Luke-1-49" id="en-NIV-24943"><sup class="versenum">49 </sup><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span>for the Mighty One has done great things for me—</span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Luke-1-49">holy is his name.</span></span><br /><span class="text Luke-1-50" id="en-NIV-24944"><sup class="versenum">50 </sup>His mercy extends to those who fear him,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Luke-1-50">from generation to generation.</span></span><br /><span class="text Luke-1-51" id="en-NIV-24945"><sup class="versenum">51 </sup>He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Luke-1-51">he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.</span></span><br /><span class="text Luke-1-52" id="en-NIV-24946"><sup class="versenum">52 </sup>He has brought down rulers from their thrones</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Luke-1-52">but has lifted up the humble.</span></span><br /><span class="text Luke-1-53" id="en-NIV-24947"><sup class="versenum">53 </sup>He has filled the hungry with good things</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Luke-1-53">but has sent the rich away empty.</span></span><br /><span class="text Luke-1-54" id="en-NIV-24948"><sup class="versenum">54 </sup>He has helped his servant Israel,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Luke-1-54">remembering to be merciful</span></span><br /><span class="text Luke-1-55" id="en-NIV-24949"><sup class="versenum">55 </sup>to Abraham and his descendants forever,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Luke-1-55">just as he promised our ancestors.”</span></span></i></div>
</div>
KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-66071578541314583542011-01-02T20:38:00.004-06:002011-01-02T21:12:14.108-06:00The children were nestled all snug in their beds......<span style="font-family:arial;">had just settled down for a long winter's nap. And that's exactly what I did.<br /><br />The weeks from Thanksgiving till Christmas was a whirlwind. It seems to be the norm for this time of year. But this year seemed busier than normal. One thing and then another everyday for 4 weeks. Our Christmas this year consisted of almost 800 miles of driving in 4 days, 4 different gift exchanges, 3 different "beds" (ie...sofas and blow-up mattresses) and way too much food. We finally got home about 10:00pm on the 26th. That night I slept almost 10 hours! I didn't leave the house for the next 4 days. I never really wore anything but my pajamas, but I did brush my teeth everyday. It was blissful. I watched TV and movies, started a new book, napped and...I don't know what else. Not much.<br /><br />I work in real estate, and therefore on commission. If I'm not working, I'm not making money. So, it's always hard for me to really stay away from work. Even apart from my job, "doing nothing" makes me feel terribly guilty. There is always house work to do, or Ordination homework, or something <em><strong>productive.</strong> </em>Somehow last week, my body and mind's need for rest finally trumped my guilt. I loved every minute. Oddly, by Friday I felt incredibly energetic. My mind seems clear. I'm ready to go back to work. Just in time, too, my house needs it!<br /><br />At forty-somethng I'm finally beginning to really appreciate the value of rest. Not just physically, but mentally; emotionally. Stop. Be still. Breathe deep.<br /><br />All is well.</span>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-52189679428336855822010-12-18T09:32:00.008-06:002010-12-18T11:05:44.721-06:00Remembering David<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7l2qvsMDm_eDxe71GNR4_NBxtXjKPVQMEC5QI8yphCXcAnaaxHMFhpJ9Aq3QGT1hwXl0Sn9_-NmYP39666Ffdqbk6PVOpt4xS9Np6RFd2oBZ58QnbLTyI2Sm61ZPnA8OxJbI16Y2x2sTi/s1600/davd+close-up.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552067419173782482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7l2qvsMDm_eDxe71GNR4_NBxtXjKPVQMEC5QI8yphCXcAnaaxHMFhpJ9Aq3QGT1hwXl0Sn9_-NmYP39666Ffdqbk6PVOpt4xS9Np6RFd2oBZ58QnbLTyI2Sm61ZPnA8OxJbI16Y2x2sTi/s400/davd+close-up.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">One year later, here we are. I've had some pretty vivid flashbacks to this time a year ago. It seemed surreal then and seems surreal now. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">David has three amazing daughters who are all grown and living other places than Austin. After the news of his accident, it was important, and of course, necessary that we contact his girls and get them to Austin right away. That plan worked well for two of them, but David's middle daughter was in Europe finishing a study abroad program. We found it difficult to contact her, and difficult to find a flight out as soon as possible. Once she did get on a plane, there were delays and missed flights; not knowing where she was; stress. She did finally make it to Austin around midnight of the 18th. All that to say, there were a few of us that were holding the space in the hospitial waiting room those four days. We just sat with the other two daughters for support and love. We shared stories. Saw old friends; even laughed. We pretty much took over the waiting room. I walked in on Wednesday morning (after we had just been there for one day), and it was clear that we had made this place our own. Oragami creations were hanging from the walls, games were all over the floor, and ads from the newspaper were also displayed on the walls. (Perhaps these ads had somewhat questionable content, but it fit our little group). We helped where we could. Most of this help was devoted to protecting the daughters from the masses of people who wanted to visit. It would have been overwhelming for the them to receive visits from the literally hundereds of people who would have come. The nurses were already asking our pastor to pass the word to our congregation for people to stop calling the nurses station. At one point, there were so many calls coming in that they felt like they couldn't do their job. To say that David was well-loved is an enormous understatement. Everyone who knew him would undoubtedly say he was one of their very best friends. And that they were very special to him. And we were. I'm not sure how one creates such a sense of love and incluson to everyone, but he did. For me, this was his greatest gift. I saw it for years in his youth ministry. I saw it with people who had special needs, or didn't seem to have many friends. I saw it with people who were homeless. His welcoming to everyone; his genuine care seemed so effortless. (Although, I did hear stories about people that made him shake his head!)</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The 18th was a long day. I had a sense first thing that morning (early and with very little sleep) that our long week of waiting would soon be coming to an end. Later that night, his daughters acted bravely and powerfully and let him go. Even now, I feel in my body the moment when our pastor announced to us that "David was in heaven now." Although we knew this moment was coming, it just doesn't prepare you for the jolt to your soul.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">This day falls in the middle of Advent. The season of waiting; expectation.; the revealing of God with us. A couple of weeks ago I helped a group of people lead worship at church. Our theme was the "Unexpected God." We shared our stories of how we experiencec God in the unexpected moments. Then, somehow, the mystery; the miracle that this unexpected encounter transforms our life. My relationship and experiences with David over many years changed my life. For me, there is great irony in the timing of his death and Advent. His death was certainly unexpected. And I don't yet see God in this. I don't see or feel the transforming miracle. I've felt fairly cynical over this last year. Not to mention angry. Feeling like this is an act of gross injustice, especially to his daughters. So, I'm just going to voice those feelings and let them be. I have no desire to tidy them up or put a nice "churchy" bow on them. And yet, I can't escape feeling immensley grateful. I'm grateful for the time in my life that I did share with him. I'm a better person for having him in my life. I wouldn't trade a single moment, even to avoid this pain. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">A beautiful candle is burning in my home today. I'm wearing a Baylor shirt and my Baylor cap. I'll be making gumbo to prepare for a gathering tomorrow with dear friends. We'll remember him together with a Cajun potluck. Nothing could be more perfect.</span></div>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-10252761948516546872010-12-14T22:30:00.003-06:002010-12-15T12:23:08.647-06:00The phone call<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpjKC-rCAfmhrMP3e-bbrsOhSo9KU1NqSuos4VhyPi0ry5vy6VKxxjOlsgu_-hpQDcV9KqHqeFPaxuPOMdl4Ra2l7AdB_poQEpYdQgLWt3MJaWY4HpFiyOEFyAp-9FxKD8aJR2jVU8z7ms/s1600/kellye+and+david.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 171px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 145px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550777755050049314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpjKC-rCAfmhrMP3e-bbrsOhSo9KU1NqSuos4VhyPi0ry5vy6VKxxjOlsgu_-hpQDcV9KqHqeFPaxuPOMdl4Ra2l7AdB_poQEpYdQgLWt3MJaWY4HpFiyOEFyAp-9FxKD8aJR2jVU8z7ms/s400/kellye+and+david.jpg" /></a><br /><div>The kind of phone call you get in the middle of the night when you know the news on the other end can't be good. Except this call came at high noon. I'm told that one of my dearest friends of the last 16 years had an accident. <em>A bad</em> <em>accident. A random, freak accident. He's in ICU. He's not going to recover.</em> Even now, one year to the day, those words seem incomprehensible. My body was paralyzed; my mind struggled for anything to say. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>David was a life-long pastor who focused most of his career in youth ministry. I think in hearing this news, there was something inside of me; an expectation that somehow this really <em>wasn'</em>t going to end badly. Maybe because he was a pastor; devoted his life to serving God and loving others; because everyone thought he was their best friend; because hundreds of young people would testify that he saved their life; because something this terrible couldn't possibly happen to <em>him</em>; because he has 3 daughters; because, because , because. But bad things really do happen to good people. This time to one of the best people on this earth. Four days later, my friend died.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It's been a hard year living with the void that his passing has left in my life. And yet, I feel like that only now I'm really beginning to let myself feel the depth of my sadness. I miss his presence...</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>every Sunday mornng</em></div><br /><div><em>most Monday mornings when I would drop by his office to visit</em></div><br /><div><em>almost daily phone calls</em></div><br /><div><em>every youth event</em></div><br /><div><em>talking Baylor sports- especially with the incredible basketball and football seasons this year!</em></div><br /><div><em>braggin about TJ</em></div><br /><div><em>any and every time I need to talk about something in my life that I was struggling with</em></div><br /><div><em>when I wanted to tell someone about something cool that happened</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div>I miss his smile. I miss how happy he always looked to see me. I miss hearing him tell stories. I miss seeing him cry (which he did easily and often).</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I've taken some opportunities to acknowledge my sadness and move through the grief. Even still, I've been very conscious of not letting myself feel too sad. Or at least for very long. The pain has felt too deep and too big. This barrier of defense around my heart has been slowly crumbling over the last few weeks. I feel as sad today, and maybe more, than I did 12 months ago. Ultimately, I know this is a good thing. And I think it would be a grave dishonor to his memory to run from this. I feel more willing than I have, up to this point, to be present and conscious in this process. Writing of my dear friend, working through this grief is the main reason I've returned to writing. Funny, it's the main reason I stopped writing several months ago. Though writing about all this here, as opposed to my private journal, feels woefully vunerable. My thoughts are not very coherent; I find it hard to articulate what I want to say; my feellings are raw and all over the map. It's not neat and tidy for public consumption. I need to do this anyway. I'm trusting that God and my heart have led me here and it shall be a sacred place. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-13179440125555555762010-12-13T09:01:00.004-06:002010-12-13T09:08:28.558-06:00A poem...or just rambling thoughts<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Rumblings.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Ceaseless reminders of passing moons</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Possibilty</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Endings</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Hope</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Despondence</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Swirling thoughts; tangled feelings</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Tired</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Wanting</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Undeterred.</em></span>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-53058846625365242572010-12-04T14:13:00.004-06:002010-12-04T22:24:25.452-06:00Christmas Tree<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LJHWWJkucMemgspUW-_ssf2GTijbPvVIYEkMM_-_LoWfOmLEQM8Za98o8lOCILRjhKsfv6TBImhzVZFqARh87-Fo3pFZHAwtJpQMRpZUcQGGdDtOMuciTgQjpFss8uxj4gAVWjStQtVy/s1600/tree.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 209px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547049282975431346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LJHWWJkucMemgspUW-_ssf2GTijbPvVIYEkMM_-_LoWfOmLEQM8Za98o8lOCILRjhKsfv6TBImhzVZFqARh87-Fo3pFZHAwtJpQMRpZUcQGGdDtOMuciTgQjpFss8uxj4gAVWjStQtVy/s400/tree.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Occassionally I have good ideas. Even more infrequently I'm very insightful. Mostly, I'm just pretty average. As a first- born hero child, I have quite an attachement to perfection. I'm also the child of an alcoholic; so I really want you to like me. Part of the challenge about having this blog is that I've put alot of pressure on myself to "have something worth saying, " or just be quiet. As I re-enter the world of writing, I'm going to try really hard 1) not to write for you, and 2) not care too much what you think. (Not caring at all is unrealistic; I'm not even going there.) At least for now, for so many reasons, writing needs to be for me. Today, I'm writing with no great spiritual insight or talk through some cool experience I had...I just want to write about my Christmas tree!<br /><br />I've always adored Christmas. As an adult with my own place, I've taken great pride and greater joy decorating for the season. I especially love putting up the tree (though not so much love in taking it down). It goes up every year just before we travel for Thanksgiving. After I lug a dozen boxes down from the attic, I crank up the volume on Christmas music. and get busy Sometimes, I forego the tunes and watch a beloved Christmas cartoon. My favorite is the <em>Grinch Who Stole Christmas</em>. And I bake sugar cookies. It's the smell I love and just seems necessary. Sadly, though, no cookies were baked this year. My husband is not so much into this whole production, so I end up doing it by myself. Kind of a drag, but I guess I've accepted it. We have <em>lots</em> of ornaments and I use 8 strands of lights, so it takes some time to get everything done. I'm always so happy when I'm finished (tired too!). It's so beautiful. This year I starting thinking about all the memories that this tree holds. The tree itself and many of the glass balls are from my first marraige. Wes's family gave all the kids an ornanement for Christmas every year. So, we have quite a few from his childhood. As a former teacher, I have many ornaments that were given to me by students. Some of those are sweet reminders of friends I've long since lost touch with. Then there are ornanements that Wes, TJ and I paint every year. I started this tradition when we got married. It's was just something fun to do together since the boys go on a "trimming the tree" strike every year. They usually complain about the painting, but comply. It's fun and we now have quite a collection of interestingly painted wooden ornaments. All in all, I have a thing of beauty that brings me to pause, remember days gone by, loved ones and precious memories.</div>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-22202305907574842822010-12-01T09:03:00.002-06:002010-12-01T09:27:33.314-06:008 months later...<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;">I'm back. Or at least I hope so. It's been a long year and I've really missed writing. I just haven't had the inspiration or energy. It's been a year of sadness, depression, beautiful surprises, irony and new paths.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;">Writing for me has always been the means by which I hear my soul. She speaks her voice through my pen. Surprisingly, writing has been the very thing I've resisted for the past several months. As I sat in church last Sunday, I felt it was time to resume writing. I hoped I would make this entry on Sunday, the first Day of Advent. Alas, it's Wednesday. I didn't grow up in a religious tradition that recognized Advent. I've only been learning and participating in this time during the last several years. And now, I love Advent. Advent affirms the parts of life that seldom get attention: waiting, expecting, listening...<em>being still</em>. I feel drawn to let Advent lead me back here. And so, Advent begs the questions, "What am I expecting?" "What am I waiting for?" Maybe it's not the expectation of any certain thing to come to pass, or a wish to come true. Perhaps it's an openness to the Divine...the unexpected...the miracles.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;">You are welcome to join me this Advent season. I would love to hear your stories of expectation, and encountering the Divine.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;">Namaste.</span>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-1683538476317716742010-03-23T10:20:00.005-05:002010-03-23T11:44:13.630-05:00Catching up<span style="font-size:85%;">As Lent began I had a renewed desire and intention to return to the writing of my blog. I've missed writing regularly and being connected to those who read. Alas, this is the 1st I've written since the Lenten season began. I've simply had little desire write, and honestly, many other things I truly enjoy. In the last couple of weeks, I've become increasingly aware of an inner restlessness. Most days I don't feel especially centered or grounded; though I may be very productive and feel as if my day went well. I've noticed a reluctance to be still or quiet for any substantial period of time. I flit and flutter from one thing to another whether it be physical or only in my head. At a deep level, or perhaps just intellectually, I know what this is. It's familiar; I've been here before. It's grief. Plain and simple, good old-fashioned grief. Last week marked 3 months since my dear friend's passing. It was around the 2 month mark that the veil of surrealism began to lift. His absence was beginning to feel wickedly real. I speak of him often, and even do things to intentionally honor or remember him. Done, perhaps, without the full attention of my heart. In the last week or so, I've felt this resistance to reality harder to keep at bay. Tears creep through for no particular reason, or at the occurrence of something completely benign, such as our college alma mater reaching the Sweet 16 round of Men, and Women's College Basketball Tournament. I went through a similar grief process after my father died. There was a period of time that was restless, and a time of feeling very paralyzed. So, I <em>know</em> what to expect. I <em>know </em>what to expect. Knowing and embracing are worlds apart.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I also have to acknowledge that this loss coincides with other grief in my life. I think I will withhold the fine details here, but just to say that I feel the grief of a lifelong dream that has not yet become reality. And conventional wisdom would say that I am in the twilight of seeing my dream come true. This, too, is a reality ( in most moments) I choose not to fully feel. But the very marrow of my existence knows my loss, my longings and my sadness; even if my mind refuses to acknowldge.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The Lenton season is, in part, a reminder of desert times. This metaphor is not lost in my life right now. I suppose there isn't much to do in the desert but just <em>be</em>. Wandering? Yes. Searching? Yes. Nothing that seemingly sustains? Yes. Yet, this place serves a necessary purpose. I don't know much about ecology, but I suspect the deserts throughout the earth serve a purpose for all life. Somehow the earth would be adversely affected were it not for these barren lands. And so, I trust God that this is surely true in my life.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I was reading this morning from one of my favorite prayer books, <em>The Celtic Wheel of the Year</em>. It tapped yet another little crack in this defense I've been carrying. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>MORNING INVOCATION:<br /></strong><em>Deep down and darkly down, there you are<br />there in the core where the world turns,<br />here in my marrow where no one sees.<br />May I feel your touch in my flesh,<br />especially when I seem to have no skin.<br />May I feel your strength in my muscle,<br />especially when I have no fight.<br />May I feel you down to my bones,<br />when I can come no other way.<br />Go beyond my bones when all has run dry.<br />May you remain there at the seat of my deepest desire,<br />present when I have forgotten my passion,<br />Be my comfort and my stay as I move through the world this day.<br /><br /></em><strong>OPENING OUT:</strong><br /><em>O,Vunerable One who hears our cry,<br />be with each person this day who is wandering their own lonely desert.<br />Encircle with your love<br />those who know there are no short-cuts,<br />who cannot go round but must go through.<br />Thank you that we do not get to the garden,<br />until we have travelled through this featureless barren terrain.<br />For this is not a detour for the unlucky,<br />but the touching bottom of being alive,<br />where we must reckon with what is.<br /><br /></em><strong>BLESSING:</strong><br /><em>When all seems hollow bless me.<br />When all seems broken bless me.<br />When you seem like a mirage bless me.<br />When I know you are not there bless me.<br />When I do not care if you are, bless me.<br />Take me unkempt face in your hands,<br />smudged and grimy from the road<br />and stroke your blessing into my features,<br />for you will never turn away a broken spirit.<br /></em></span><br /><em></em><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-90787766074600975942010-02-17T08:38:00.005-06:002010-02-17T08:59:41.991-06:00Ash Wednesday<span style="font-size:130%;">Over the last several years, I've practiced the observance of Lent. Growing up in the Southern Baptist tradition as I did, we did not observe this season. I'm not sure I had even heard the word until I was in my 20's. Even still, it has become an annual ritual of mine and one that I eagerly anticpate. It is a time for me of reflection, repentance, rest and restoration (That sounds so "preacher-like"! I promise the alliteration was unintended!) I'll share more in the coming days of what I'm choosing to "let go of." At it's essence, it involves a slowing down. A slowing down of mind, body and spirit. I need this. For today, I simply leave you with a prayer. I discovered this prayer a couple of weeks ago as I was reading of Lenten and Ash Wednesday practices. It feels like a good way to begin.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ffff33;"><strong>Prayer of Saint Ephrem, the Syrian</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><em>O Lord and Master of my life, keep from me the spirit of indifference and discouragement, lust of power and idle chatter</em>. [kneel/prostration]<br /><br /><em>Instead, grant to me, Your servant, the spirit of wholeness of being, humble-mindedness, patience, and love</em>. [kneel/prostration]<br /><br /><em>O Lord and King, grant me the grace to be aware of my sins and not to judge my brother; for You are blessed now and ever and forever. Amen</em>. [kneel/prostration]<br /></span><br /><br />Grace and peace to you.</span>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-43656125904578183482010-01-12T08:39:00.005-06:002010-01-13T07:55:44.626-06:00Happy New YearThe entrance into a new year has been quite slow. The two weeks leading up to January 1 were so fraught with busyness and emotion, it's taken awhile to recuperate. And I'm just beginning to really feel the loss of my friend and navigate this grief. A time will come when I can process some of that here, but I'm not ready for that just yet.<br /><br />The day before David's memorial, a friend and writer shared a poem on his <a href="http://donteatalone.blogspot.com/">blog</a> that I've been reading daily. The poem was taken from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0806690542?ie=UTF8&tag=donteatalone-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0806690542" target="blank">Guerrillas Of Grace: Prayers For The Battle</a> .<br /><br /><strong><em>Guide Me into an Unclenched Moment</em></strong><br /><br /><em>Gentle me,</em><br /><em>Holy One,</em><br /><em>into an unclenched moment,</em><br /><em>a deep breath,</em><br /><em>a letting go</em><br /><em>of heavy expectancies,</em><br /><em>of shriveling anxieties,</em><br /><em>of dead certainties,</em><br /><em>that, softened by the silence,</em><br /><em>surrounded by the light,</em><br /><em>and open to the mystery,</em><br /><em>I may be found by wholeness,</em><br /><em>upheld by the unfathomable,</em><br /><em>entranced by the simple,</em><br /><em>and filled with the joy</em><br /><em>that is you.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br />Perhaps one of my greatest struggles is living my life with an "clenched fist." A feeling at times of desperation or anxiety for something to be different, a prayer to be answered, a circumstance to be changed. I don't pray to be rich, or famous, or anything extravagant (at least in my opinion!). I just hope for dreams to become realty, for example. Not too much to ask, right? And then again, I may be too hard on myself. For this "clenched fist" syndrome may just be a part of the human condition. The truth is, I'm a fairly peaceful person. I have learned the beauty of acceptance and faith. I know the pentrating tranquility in my soul that comes from breathing deeply and truly believeing that all is well. And yet, I worry how taxes will be paid, or how much longer I'll have to work two jobs, or if TJ will make it through track season without injury, or if (<em>fill in the blank</em>).<br /><br />"Dear God, just for today, guide me into an unclenched moment...or maybe even more than one."KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-60603485798851018372009-12-30T09:45:00.009-06:002010-01-05T08:36:02.253-06:00David Gentiles Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZ6X1IQwPtULJRvaHXhrdnriFN0UlDzHT3TAfKbDahSuS2HBsd4d8FXlRx7CL5eeQ8vXafKpRKe9fiz7t6wLaUxl6ivChQuUpXqdKSwM8aBiePu3xm0peUGprCkkIS44_RzmG8wrD1rxk/s1600-h/camp+-+Copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421056187909693730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZ6X1IQwPtULJRvaHXhrdnriFN0UlDzHT3TAfKbDahSuS2HBsd4d8FXlRx7CL5eeQ8vXafKpRKe9fiz7t6wLaUxl6ivChQuUpXqdKSwM8aBiePu3xm0peUGprCkkIS44_RzmG8wrD1rxk/s400/camp+-+Copy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today I’m gathering with family and friends to honor the life of a great man, David Anthony Gentiles. David is one of my dearest friends for the last 16 years. He had a freak accident 2 weeks ago and died on December 18. David turned 58 years old just after Thanksgiving. He has three amazing daughters: Ariele, Hannah and Calla.<br /><br />David is one of the most beloved and adored people I’ve ever known. He served in churches for over 30 years; primarily as a youth minister. Literally, hundreds of men and women from his youth groups would say that David changed their life. As one who volunteered in youth ministries since I was in college, I learned the most about ministry from David. His approach ministry was simple: build relationships and love kids. Nothing else was important. Anyone who knew him or worked with him, saw this in action. It wasn’t just a philosophy, it was the way he lived his life. </div><div><br />We shared many similar paths: a Southern Baptist upbringing. We often joked about some of those memories: Bible drills, GA programs and Vacation Bible School rituals. We both have been through divorce. He and I talked regularly when he became a single dad raising 3 young girls. He was worried and scared. He also turned out to be one of the greatest parents I’ve known. (I put him on my speed dial when TJ came to live with us. I called him A LOT!!) David took me to dinner and a movie the day my divorce was final. (that movie later proved to be a long-standing joke for us. I'll share that story another day.) When I started dating again, he was the person I called to share how a date went. He supported stories of "this guy was a total bore" or share in my excitement if things went well. And for a while, I was invited to share in the Saturday morning ritual of pancakes with him and his daughters. I even took a road trip with them once. Big fun. He helped me change the oil in my car (ok, he actually did the work but I was there). David and I shared many retreats, discipleship weekends, VBS and youth camps; amazing memories and funny stories. Telling stories of the legendary Country Camp may never quite be the same. We also knew what it was like to work for the church. It was during college that David began his work in the church, as did I. Although, David went on to devote his education and career to youth ministry. It’s only been in recent years that both he and I found an authentic beauty in a church that I think we both knew <em>could</em> exist, but never realized was actually possible. </div><div><br />David baptized me. Married me. Sat in a hospital waiting room for me -twice. Watched football games in my home. He was the emergency contact I list right after my husband. We both cheered for the Baylor Bears, even when we knew they wouldn’t win. </div><div><br />Two of my favorite characteristics of David, and the legacies I will remember the most…One is David’s deep, deep compassion for others. Especially for the outsiders, or the poor and mistreated. He modeled this for me and slowly, over the years, my fears or lack of comfort with those who are different than me is fading. I think perhaps his most striking attribute is his ability- his gift- to make everyone feel like they were special to him; that their relationship with David was unique. There is no doubt that each person who comes to his service today, or posts a note on Facebook, or looks through old photographs feels this way. That gift reflects paying attention, being present, really listening…part of everyday, just living life David Gentiles. </div><div><br />The memorial is being held at a baseball field. David was an avid baseball fan; it’s so perfect. I’ll be wearing my Baylor University baseball cap. Afterwards, an open house is being held at our church to visit with friends and pay homage to all things David, “The David Gentiles Experience.” His daughters have promised the most “badass-est” memorial ever. It is well on track for this goal. I was there for awhile yesterday helping his daughters and other dear friends prepare this space. It’s beautiful, and yet the cloud of surrealism slowly began to lift as I was there. I’m beginning to feel the heaviness of the sadness in my heart. I said good-bye to David at his bedside, but I know from experience that saying good-bye is really a process and it’s going to take awhile. I spoke to him or saw him several times a week; sometimes daily. He is the person I called or texted when a Baylor sport did something miraculous. He is one of the first people I called when I needed to talk. He was my partner in ministry: helping to plan, create, or brainstorm. He sat with me every Sunday morning in youth Bible Study. Yes, this is going to take awhile. </div><div><br />I know today will be a wonderful day of celebrating an amazing life and legacy. My sadness will take a back seat today as I hear stories, share my own memories, eat his favorite foods, hear his favorite music (from his massive LP collection!) and hug friends I haven’t seen in years. </div><div><br />This is going to be a good day, my friend. It’s all for you. Thank you for you love and amazing friendship. You always have a cherished place in my heart.<br /><br /><br />(for another wonderful tribute to David, read Eileen Flynn’s story in the <a href="http://www.statesman.com/life/faith/beliefs-big-and-small-paint-picture-of-pastor-147181.html">Austin American Statesman.</a> ) </div>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-12964034268522962802009-11-30T12:13:00.003-06:002009-11-30T12:21:56.189-06:00AdventYesterday marked the beginning of Advent. A season of waiting, expectation, anticipation. I started my morning by reading the newest blog from my friend and woman extraordinaire, <a href="http://julieclawson.com/">Julie Clawson</a>. She writes, “As joy arrived and dwelt among us, we discovered that there is meaning in the waiting.” Ah, yes. I’m learning over and over that the lessons in life; the richness of life comes not when we reach our destination, but rather on our journey in getting there. I find myself in personal season of waiting. Waiting for a dream; waiting for yearnings fulfilled. I suspect I’m not alone in finding that waiting can be difficult. Our fast-paced, instant gratification culture does not encourage patience. Today I asked myself, “What am I gaining from this time of waiting?” If we’re paying attention, there are always lessons. Some of mine are new lessons; others gentle reminders. I’ve learned that I’m stronger than I sometimes give myself credit for. I’m learning about the incredible power of community and being loved. I am so richly blessed with amazing friends. Gratitude is transformational. This is not a new lesson for me, but I’m continually astounded at the magic this simple act creates. Perhaps the most beautiful and comforting reminder is the constant presence of God. This isn’t a new realization for me either. Nor is this an idealistic, Sunday School answer. I’m just amazed. The ever-present communion with the Almighty God is one of the few things that I believe in without waiver. The Creator of all living things, vast and small, became flesh and blood and dwelled among us. And God hasn’t left. Recently, I’ve been rethinking some ideas that I’ve held about prayer. The answer to a prayer isn’t necessarily the moment when the “thing” you’ve prayed for finally happens. Perhaps the answers come simply in the act of praying. I’m aware of the presence of God in the asking, the questioning, the crying, or the disappointment. At times, it seems as though God is more evident in the searching than in the finding. For this period of waiting for me, I find this to be true. And I’m grateful. If I only found God at the end of the road, I suspect I would rarely finish the journey. Esther De Wall writes in The Celtic Way of Prayer, “I shall not find Christ at the end of the journey unless he accompanies me along the way.” At a time when answers are allusive, there is still laughter, hope, and happiness. This is the mystery of God…happiness in the midst of sadness, a glimmer of hope among despair, a smile through the tears. Still…waiting is difficult. Even my firm belief in God does not interfere with my struggle. Today, I’m finding comfort in the journey and in the anticipation of miracles, both seen and unseen, that are being born in me. Welcome Advent.KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-9355824377688970552009-04-22T09:02:00.003-05:002009-04-22T09:20:48.312-05:00The questionI started reading a new book this morning, <a href="http://www.oriahmountaindreamer.com/books.html">The Dance,</a> by Oriah Mountain Dreamer. I read another of her books a few years ago, The Invitation. I loved that book and it's one that I go back to often. After just a few pages this morning of the new book, I have to stop and let the poignancy of these few words settle in me. She begins chapter one by asking the question,<br /><br /><em>"I want to know why I am so infrequently the person I really want to be?"</em><br /><em></em><br />A fair question, I think. One that I often ask of myself. I ask myself the questions of why I find it difficult to be more patient, more compassionate, more aware, more loving with myself and others, more generous. I think all of these qualities are worthy of improving upon. I write about it, I pray, or look for ways to remind myself how to practice these things that I want to grow in me.<br /><br />In a dream, she hears this:<br /><br /><em>"Wrong question, Oriah. The question is not why you are so infrequently the person you really want to be. The question is why do you so infrequently want to be there person you</em><br /><em>really are?"</em><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br />This resonates with me as the truer question. I've got to ponder on this awhile.KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-55441020329248684962009-04-11T21:23:00.004-05:002009-04-11T23:17:58.320-05:00EasterI can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve done any writing. This last month…well, it’s been interesting. And all that life brings from day to day takes away from my creativity. I don’t especially feel creative today, but I’m drawn to write about Easter. Easter is becoming my favorite holiday; perhaps even more than Christmas! Much of my life I’ve experienced Easter as a very celebratory, exuberant day. I suppose the church tradition I’ve grown up in creates this. Church was always an extra special event, especially the Easter Pageant…for all of you Baptist folks. And yes, I have played (and sung )the role of the mourning mother of Jesus. Over the last several years, I have felt a mellowing for this holiday. There is nothing wrong with the rejoicing; I believe there is much to celebrate. Easter, and the weeks of Lent leading up to it, though have become more of a time of reflection for me. A time to reflect on my own faults, wrongs…the things in me that I would have die. A time to reflect on the things in life I am slave to, as Jewish followers do as they remember the Exodus. And it’s a time for gratitude for the many, many things God has done and is doing in my life.<br /><br />I’m especially mindful this year of those parts of my life that need new life. Last year, some of you will remember, I took a 4 day silent retreat. While I was there I walked the Stations of the Cross. There is a Station near the end that marks the burial of Jesus. I took some of my writings from that week and burned them; burying the ashes as this station. It was an act for me of saying there are things I wish to surrender to God. Asking for God to bury them just as Jesus’s close friends buried him. It was also asking God to resurrect something new in me. A miracle. Something only God could do. I’m asking the same thing this Easter.<br /><br />I host a Passover Seder with the teenagers at my church each year. It’s such a great time of sharing and remembering. It’s one of my favorite things I do with them. A part of the Seder is the remembering how the Hebrews were slaves in Egypt . On the night of the 10th plague, the Angel of Death passed over their doors at midnight killing all the 1st born of those who had not placed the blood of a lamb of their door. In retelling this story, they remember that for the 1st half of the night they were slaves, and the 2nd half of the night they were free.<br /><br />Tonight at midnight I will take my turn in our faith community’s Easter Prayer vigil. I didn’t specifically pick this time, it was one of the few times left open. I grateful, though. As the hour passes form Lent to Easter, I will be praying. Praying for the courage to surrender. Praying for miracles. Praying for new life and offering many, many thanks.KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-46862536226545132462009-02-25T16:39:00.004-06:002009-03-02T08:48:19.753-06:00Ash WednesdayI grew up in a Baptist church. We didn't observe Ash Wednesday or Lent. That was left, I guess, to the Catholics or those persons cleaning their dryers. (really bad joke) Anyway, the church I helped start a few years ago observes this time of the Christian season. We have tried to embrace practices from many religions and walks of faith. Lent for me, like Advent or Rosh Hashanah is a symbol; a vehicle for connecting to the Divine in this world and in me. I need ritual and sacrament to help me focus. Life is just to crazy and busy to do it on my own sometimes. It's also about community. Though Lent is perhaps focused on the individual, it is also practiced in community. I may have questions about faith or God and how God works in my life, but there is comfort in the collective belief. The community of doubters, journeyers, those searching, those that feel confident and strong...this is what church has become for me.<br /><br />I just spent some time in prayer at the Warehouse my faith community calls home. After my time of prayer and communion, one of the ministers marked my forehead with ashes. Another symbol...for me a symbol of releasing attachment. The Buddhists say that attachement is the source of all suffering. I have no reason to argue. It is traditional to "give up" something during the Lenten season. I've prayed and thought about what that will be for me. The questions arising for me are 1) what gives me false security, 2) what distracts, 3) what keeps me from listening. The last one is what kept coming to me this afternoon. What keeps me from listening...to God, to others- <em>really listening</em>, and listening to my own heart and soul. Computers, TV, busyness, the will to "be right", fear... are just a few that start my list.<br /><br />I realize that Lent begins today and therefore so should my abstinence. I'm reluctant to pick something just for the sake of doing so. So for today, I'm just going to listen.<br /><br />"<em>Be still and know that I am God."</em>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-18543526127053564392009-02-21T08:47:00.009-06:002009-02-21T09:41:17.635-06:00Jinx Lacey Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm50FFKOv9zpf9MGqGKkikA_z3byahxuoavlAKnJHGxtCeeFTXTWnrkF1yn5ln0XBzo095WaJ21fd9oqQtlg2YnEiLrxk5pZX9uhDg3IvJ0olA6d92xYwh7MkU6knhrYamgMS3Y-WaEVCO/s1600-h/Jinx.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305270868555151794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 117px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm50FFKOv9zpf9MGqGKkikA_z3byahxuoavlAKnJHGxtCeeFTXTWnrkF1yn5ln0XBzo095WaJ21fd9oqQtlg2YnEiLrxk5pZX9uhDg3IvJ0olA6d92xYwh7MkU6knhrYamgMS3Y-WaEVCO/s400/Jinx.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh601phF7N-bycVFq97VpRQoBnvbhRClJSCI5nNQ6TcqY0LkfzSQy3fvCjw1b_mSYCMuGlAz-13uexEcUoYaLm_sYBscxveTX1wE6w-nGGnaV-nqBv-Rj_k5DNIRHDbz7F2_3lrvLct4Rt0/s1600-h/Jinx.jpg"></a></p><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>Today I will attend the memorial service for my dear friend Jinx. She passed away suddenly about 2 weeks ago. As is often the case in death, this still seems surreal. </div><div><br /></div><br /><div>I met Jinx in 1993 when I moved to Austin. She and I sang in the church choir together. She would sit in the same place every week with the same little group of 2nd sopranos. I sang 1st soprano (at the time...those days have long since passed for me) and sat all the way in the back behind the 2nds. In the songs that demanded the 1st sopranos sing so high that only dogs could hear, she would often turn around and look at me. And there were times, when she knew the highest notes were coming and she turned around to look at me anxiously awaiting the screaching. I would always laugh and tell her it was impossible for me to sing like that with her staring at me. She kept on though, with her ever-present big smile. She called me a "swan." Now, I've heard the sounds a swan makes and it isn't especially lovely. But for Jinx, this was a high compliement. Any time I saw her she never failed to call me by this name. She was one of my biggest fans and it always felt good to hear her champion the gifts God has given me. I visited her one day in the high school where she worked. She didn't teach, but at least on some occassions, she had a class that she led. The day I was there she insited that I sing for her class. I probably would have done anything for her. So, I obliged and sang to this room full of very disinterested teenagers. Jinx, however, was standing in the back smiling from ear-to-ear.</div><br /><div>She did the Lord's work in the world....a crisis counselor for High School students. It's my understanding that she did this work for more than 30 years. There was a memorial service last week for students, former students and faculty from the school where she worked. I was not able to attend, but I was told the people shared their stories of Jinx for more than 2 hours. They shared stories of how she helped them through the hardest of times, how she listened to them when no one else would, how she loved on them when they felt like no one else did. From my own experience, she was one of those people who made you feel like no one else was in the room but you and her. Whomever she was talking with had her undiveded attention. That is an important gift to anyone, but certainly to a struggling teenager. </div><br /><div>She was also one of the funniest women I have ever known. Oh, my goodness this lady was funny. To give you an idea of her comedic gifts, I'll pass on a story I heard just after her passsing. As any good American school will do, they often planned early morning meetings for the faculty. One of the other counselors at her school shared that on one occassion, Jinx showed her displeasure of the early morning meetings by arriving to work in her pajamas and curlers. Yep. That was Jinx. Oh, my...I wish I had been there!! I think it was this boisterous spirit that made her so attractive to others and to me. I loved to be around her just so I could laugh! And yet, I know that it was deeper than that. There was a spirit of passion and generocity that she lived with. She loved life and deeply cared about those around her.</div><br /><div>This world has lost a precious soul. It will be good to honor her life today. To my dear friend Jinx, thanks for your friendship, the laughter and the legacy of love you gave to me and this world. I will miss you.</div>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-28414271462143846622009-01-31T10:26:00.006-06:002009-08-17T08:04:18.998-05:00A "first" for me!Several weeks ago, <a href="http://thecorner.typepad.com/">Bob</a> asked me to submit an article to our local newspaper. For mysterious reasons unknown to me, I have a hard time telling Bob "no." Perhaps because he is one of the coolest "thinkers" that I know. I have a deep respect and admiration of him. He is also great writer and therefore I'm ridiculously intimidated. Anyway, I said yes to the task of writing an article about my faith. The essay appears in today's issue. I've been a bit nervous about it, but I also feel very excited. And, though this is difficult to say, I'm quite proud. I had to share it with you!<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;">"<span style="font-size:130%;">Redefining faith after religious upbringing"</span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ffff00;">I grew up in church. Grew up as in, every time the doors were open I was there. That kind of grew up. I knew all the stories and I knew what they meant. I memorized dozens and dozens of Bible verses, attended every morning and evening service, and I knew all the answers for every Sunday School question.<br /><br />This was the church of my mother and her parents. I’m deeply grateful for my Southern Baptist heritage. It provided me a beautiful foundation that my life sits firmly upon today. There were precious men and women who loved, taught, nurtured and guided me for 18 years. My time in this faith tradition gave me a faith that was very strong, as well as neat and tidy.<br /><br />Christianity was simple with clear cut answers. I believed that God didn’t necessarily live at the church, but I could certainly find God there. Within a few short of years of living outside this incubator, I began to learn that my God did exist in a box. By the time I graduated from college, God had begun a slow and steady dismantling of everything I thought I believed. I’ve come to call it the “authenticating of my faith.”<br /><br />My belief in God, and what it meant to be a Christian was slowly distancing itself from the faith of my church and my grandparents. My faith was becoming my own. Tough experiences in life, such as a divorce 3 years after my fairy tale wedding, began to complicate the simple faith I had always known. Unsuspecting men and women found their way into my path offering me different perspectives of God and faith.<br /><br />Their God seemed bigger than mine. They spoke of God with much less rigidity and certainty, and I found this deeply intriguing. As a result, for the last 10 or 12 years I have been asking questions about what I believe and why. That can be a scary place; for who knows what could be on the other side of questioning who God is? At times this questioning, even doubting, has brought an unsettling feeling to present circumstances that needed absolutes. And yet, this path has brought the greatest joy and fulfillment I have known in all my life of being a believer.<br /><br />I don’t memorize Bible verses like I used to, but I love to read and study the stories of men and women from the Bible. I’ve begun to read those stories, in part, within historical and cultural contexts. This is not only fascinating, but makes those ancient stories so much richer. Even more, I love discovering the life of Jesus and all that He taught.<br /><br />Today my life as a follower of Jesus is about striving to take His teachings and live them out in my own life. This is not easy task at times. It’s not about going to church, believing the right doctrine, praying the right prayers, or even asking Jesus to be my ‘personal Savior.” It’s about love.<br /><br />I’ve come to believe that all of Jesus’ teachings are all about love…loving others and ourselves. For me, God is found in community with others, whether they believe in God or not. Perhaps that community is in my church, or it could be with the neighbors on my street. I experience God in still moments with a cup of coffee and a Hill Country sunrise. And I’ve even experienced God in dark and hard times.<br /><br />The writer of a song in the Bible says that God has known me since I was in my mother’s womb, and that there is nowhere that I can escape the presence of God. My soul feels this and it is both frightening and joyful.<br /><br />I’ve discovered I don’t really know all the stories after all, they tend to ebb and flow with meaning giving me what I need for the moment. I certainly don’t know all the answers. God is a mystery and my life as a follower of Jesus is journey with constant change. My hope is that my searchings are always transforming my heart and mind, and I show it by how I love and serve the world. This is my joy, my calling and my salvation.<br /><br /></span>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-75763263545328819452009-01-07T22:26:00.004-06:002009-01-07T22:37:51.998-06:00Happy New Year!<span style="font-family:verdana;">I’ve missed writing the last few weeks. December seems to always be so busy. And yet, this year was not as busy as in years past. I really felt no stress about shopping, planning, traveling, etc. We purchased very few gifts this year (a self-imposed spending freeze!). Instead, at least with my family, we tried to just focus on being together. It was wonderful. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />As I often do at the end of the year, I’ve been reflecting on this past, and also looking ahead. I was delighted to end 2008 with a quiet and serene beginning to 2009. My husband and I had planned to go to a party, but then he decided that he would just rather stay home. This self-proclaimed night-owl went to bed at 11:30! TJ was gone, so at midnight I was all by myself watching the ball drop in New York City. And I was perfectly content! Shortly after midnight, I said goodnight to Dick Clark and turned off the TV. For the next hour I sat writing in my journal by the light of my Christmas tree, drinking hot chocolate and listening to my favorite Mannheim Steamroller song “Stille Nacht”. This is actually one of my favorite things to do at Christmas. So I thought it was an especially cool way to ring in the new year. I began to write of this lovely moment as well as my aspirations for the new year. Not so much resolutions or goals, but intentions. I wrote about things that bring me joy and my intention to live joyfully. I also wrote of my many, many blessings and how grateful I am. It was a beautiful time for me doing something I love while saying thank you to the past and hello to the future.<br /><br />This last week has brought to me an interesting message. Three different times, from three different people I’ve had this idea of “birthing” brought to me. The idea of (or my interpretation) “what is it that God is birthing in me?” What is happening in my life right now that is actually the process of birthing something new? I’m not a mother yet; I hope to be one day. And perhaps this question relates to the physical, but I think it’s more spiritual. For birth to occur there is preparation, waiting, expectation, pain and joy. All of those things are present in my life today. I have some thoughts about this idea, but no answers. Perhaps asking the questions is a part of the process. Right now I’m intrigued by this idea and think it’s a wonderful way to start a new year.<br /><br /></span>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-57872437120076253612008-12-11T08:56:00.003-06:002008-12-11T09:03:36.304-06:00Prayer for todayGod,<br /><br />Heal my body, soul and mind. Show me the paths that allow me to serve my neighbor and myself to the greatest good. Give me courage to seek and embrace the new and the unknown. Provide me with boldness to give and receive love in all things.<br /><br />Thank you, thank you, thank you.KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-38855160383833801162008-11-26T12:50:00.001-06:002008-11-27T20:44:34.045-06:00IntentionI’ve been sick for a few days. Probably bad allergies, but maybe a cold. I felt pretty awful for a couple of days, and I lost my voice. Monday and Tuesday I could barely whisper. Even though I don’t necessarily like being sick and I have a lot of things to do this week, this was actually welcome. Mostly, I was glad to not speak. It sounds kind of weird, but there is something about it that brings solitude. You can’t speak, so you don’t. It’s irritating for others to try and talk to you, so they don’t. It’s not really that bad! For me, losing my speaking voice also seems to make the voices in my head shut up. The voices that constantly remind me of my list of things to do, or the voices that are mulling over problems…whatever. I’ve spent the last couple of days decorating my house for Christmas, taking naps, cooking for Thanksgiving and watching movies. And in all of that there is this sense of slowing down. Certainly, not feeling well contributes but it’s more than that. I’m a BIG fan of alone time, solitude, and being still. I need those things in my life; they feed my soul in deep places. But the last few days have been thinking more about just slowing down. Solitude is nice, but not scrambling through each and every day racing from one thing to another may bring even greater serenity. The fast-paced lifestyle seems to be the American way. And I do it well most of the time even without even realizing. I eat fast for absolutely no reason at all. Or I hurry up and water the plants (even though it’s 60 degree outside with beautiful sunshine) so I can get back inside and….do the next thing? I long to live my life with deliberateness and intention. Sometimes I do, or at least better than I used to. But most of the time I run on autopilot. What a gift we can give ourselves…to be in the present moment. It’s a wonderful thing to eat your dinner slowly while visiting with friends or family, or to walk slowly to the mailbox, or to really take the time to enjoy the morning’s 1st cup of coffee before the day gets started. I’m not sure how one undoes the American Way of hurry up, I just know that I feel better and enjoy life so much more when I slow down.KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-56612390293079839842008-11-07T09:17:00.012-06:002008-11-08T08:00:44.490-06:00A response to the editor<em><span style="color:#ffff66;">I received an anonymous comment yesterday from a man who says he is the editor of the student newspaper at the </span></em><a href="http://www.dailytexanonline.com/"><em><span style="color:#ffff66;">University of Texas</span></em></a><em><span style="color:#ffff66;">. I’ve decided to respond to some of the comments, as well as elaborate on some of my thoughts. I would like to say that I’m not a politician, economist, historian, data-head or news junkie. In the world of politics, I’m very green. I’m also a believer. I strive to live my life by the teachings of Jesus and to follow what he said is the greatest commandment, “To love the Lord with all you heart, soul, mind and strength. And to love your neighbor as yourself.”<br />My hope for myself, as well as others, is that I take the interest I have found in this Presidential race and carry it to the State and Local levels. With that disclaimer, please read on taking what you like and leave the rest.<br /></span></em><br />Dear S,<br /><br />Thanks for stopping by my blog! Though I don’t agree with many of the perspectives you offer, I’m happy to have a conversation. I won’t respond directly to some of the specific points that you made, but will mostly elaborate on my overall essay to clarify any misunderstandings.<br /><br />One thing I will address directly is your #1 statement. Since I didn’t mention what 2007 interview I referred to, it’s a bold statement to say that I misquoted him. With that being said, let me make 3 points:<br />1) It was probably generous of me to use quotations around something he said since I do not remember <em>exactly</em> the words he used. The essence of what he discussed though, I believe I understand him clearly.<br />2) I am completely aware of his political stance on abortion, as well as his voting record.<br />3) To answer your # 5 statement, my answer is “Yes.” I completely agree with his discussion about abortion being a complex issue without clear-cut defining answers. <em>(Though I do have big concerns about certain aspects of his abortion stance such as partial-birth or late term abortions). </em>I think it a crying shame that this issue has become a political platform in our country. In my opinion, this isn’t a political issue at all. Yet, we force our leaders of government to choose one side or the other. I have dealt with this issue in my own family. I have seen and experienced the magnitude this challenge brings to the mother, father and their respective families. Therefore, I don’t form this decision out of isolated ideology, but out of many different factors including real life experience. I agree that the voices of the unborn must have advocacy. We must have boundaries…thus the role of government. I believe in the sanctity of life…of all life (I refer to issues such as war, death penalty and poverty). However, it my firm opinion that it is not the role of the government to tell me or any other woman what we can and cannot do with our body. I’ll stop here on this issue as I don’t want this letter to focus totally on abortion, but I heard you asking for my opinion of Obama’s stance on this issue. This is a tough issue for me, one that I have great inner struggle with from a political standpoint and then from a standpoint of being a believer...a believer in the God who created ALL life. Perhaps my views will change one day, but for today this is where I am.<br /><br />The other specific thing I will address is my statement of having “firsthand knowledge of discrimination.” Perhaps I give myself too much credit here for seeing and understanding racism from arms length. I am a white woman. No matter how black friends I have, no matter how unjust I judge black Americans to be treated at times, no matter how much embarrassment I feel for some of the history in our country towards blacks…I will never understand. It’s just not possible. For that reason alone, perhaps the wisest course for me to take is to just not comment. I’ll give this consideration. I had this same feeling about all the news regarding Reverend Wright and his church earlier in the year. I’m not black, I’m not a black person in a black church, and therefore I have absolutely no business judging what is said among that community. So, my friend, if my attempt to speak towards racism is offensive to you, I offer my deepest apologies.<br /><br />Beyond your first statement, I don’t have any interest in addressing your other comments specifically. I don’t think it’s worth my time, or serves a good purpose. Especially, your #4 statement. Frankly, I think it’s repulsive that you even say such a thing out loud. Not to mention undermining the intelligence and good intent of that 93%...though I haven’t yet seen this number reported. Instead, I would like to attempt to clarify my overall sentiments. First of all, I did not vote for Obama because he is black. Based on CNN polls as far back as June and as recent as last week, I’m not alone. In short, their numbers report that 7 out of 10 voters did NOT vote based on race. You can read this report for yourself at <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/10/24/poll.race/">http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/10/24/poll.race/</a>. I’m sure there are many people who did vote for him simply because he’s black, just as there are people who voted for McCain because they would never vote for a Democrat or vice versa. I unequivocally disagree with your statement, <em>“This man was not voted in due to the content of his character..but was judged by the color of his skin. Period.”</em> This is a statement of opinion, a narrow-minded opinion as far as I’m concerned, and certainly not one based on civility much less fact. I believe I did exactly what Reverend King spoke of, and I know many, many other people that did the same…<em>that we ”judged (a person) not on the color of their skin but (among many other things) on the content of their character.”<br /></em><br />In my closing paragraph, I spoke of the great pride I feel this week. Let me be clear once again, I am not saying that my pride simply comes from for voting for a black man. I’m proud because of what is one of the largest voter turn-out in US history. I’m proud of the all the 1st-time voters. I’m proud of America for giving a damn about this process. I’m proud of all Americans… black, white, gay, straight, Democrat, Republican, rich poor....for, at least, striving to be the <em><strong>United</strong></em> States. Certainly there is not unity in policy, but I do believe (and perhaps I’m naïve and idealistic) that we have unity in purpose. I believe that all Americans want the very best for our country, and our families. THAT, if only that, can be our common ground. This can be the common ground that makes a path for the greater good.<br /><br />So, “S,” <em>please</em>…take a break from the divisive rhetoric. <em>Please</em>, do everyone a favor and find a place to be grateful for the wonderful freedom that you enjoy regardless who leads this country.KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1425986814543019167.post-57902171833974686042008-11-05T20:04:00.003-06:002008-11-05T20:29:19.388-06:00A Defining Moment<span style="font-size:130%;">Last night was a powerful moment in US history. The headlining news of every media channel world-wide has announced the election of America’s first African-American President. I tuned into FoxNews last night just in time to hear Brit Hume call the results for California, and thus, call the election for Barack Obama. I felt such joy and pride, and as I wrote to a fellow Facebook friend, I was speechless.<br /><br />I voted for Senator Obama. It’s the 1st time in 22 years of being eligible to vote that I voted for a Democrat. This was no small departure for me. And there are those among my family and friends that are quite disappointed. I began paying attention to Obama last year after hearing an interview with him. The journalist asked him about his thoughts on abortion. He first said, “It’s a complex issue. One that is doesn’t have simple answers.” He went on to talk about how he was still working out this issue for himself, both as a politician and a private citizen. It was the 1st time I could recall a politician give something other than a clear black and white answer….for anything. For him to acknowledge the complexity of such an issue (it could have been any issue) and to say publically that he’s still sorting things out…for me, that was impressive. So, I began to listen. And then begin educate myself on one issue, then another. Listening and research morphed into curiosity, then into conversations. I am among the throngs of people who, for the first time, have found interest (dare I say even excitement?!) in politics. There were many others interviews, speeches, and debates to follow that solidified my vote. Though some around me have challenged my opinions, I believe I followed due diligence of research…and my heart.<br /><br />My generation has many souls that have made their indelible mark on our country….Martin Luther King, Jr., John F. Kennedy, Barbara Jordan and Cesar Chavez to name a few. Perhaps it is premature to put Obama’s name along side of these great people. Yet, I hear in him and see in the work he done up to this point a perspective on life, community, democracy, and government that sets him apart from the crowd. I want that, and need that in a President. He is a fine and gifted orator. And while that doesn’t qualify him to be president, it does pave a way to speak to people of all backgrounds. His words inspire. Again, not a qualification for a world leader, but inspiration is a powerful medium. Inspiration can give people the opportunity to have a different perspective. Inspiration can be a catalyst for courage, risk-taking and dreaming. I think, in part, that is what America did yesterday.<br /><br />It makes me proud that our country has taken a grand step forward in bridging the gap between the different races our country is home to. (For a wonderful visual aid, checkout my friend </span><a href="http://thecorner.typepad.com/bc/2008/11/as-of-today-ame.html"><span style="font-size:130%;">Bob’s blog</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> ) The Civil Rights Movement of the 1960’s was not that long ago. And having TJ live with us during the last 4 years, I have witnessed firsthand the discrimination toward blacks that still exist in the 21st century. At times, I have been appalled and ashamed. But there was no shame in yesterday’s election. I speak of my pride and excitement, though with some hesitancy. There is a part of me that feels like I’m watching something great from the outside. I’m witnessing the fruition from generations of struggle and dreams of a people whose skin is a different color than mine. Though it’s a day for all Americans, it certainly is quite special for my black brothers and sisters. Boundaries and ceilings have been removed. Black Americans have a path for <em>all </em>the opportunities of this great country has to offer. Opportinuties that perhaps I take for granted. This man has given our country and all it's citizens a great gift. I hope one day to meet him. I hope to shake his hand and say thank you. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">This is a great, great day for our country and our world. America, I’m proud of you. Not for voting for a Democrat. I’m proud of you, America, for caring. I’m proud of you for dreaming, whoever you voted for. I’m proud of all Americans for taking part in the beautiful gift of democracy we have in this country. </span><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">As President Elect Obama said in his speech last night, “This is a defining moment.”</span></p>KJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05259158358009328043noreply@blogger.com4