Aj Schwanz

My friend, a delightful and wonderful and warm and eloquent new friend, Marta, has a blog. She has a knack of playing with words that is fantastic, and her view of the world is unique (something I so appreciate - there really does have to be a better name for Stay At Home Mom). Go: read her blog: leave her comments - you know you want to.

So today was a day of firsts at church:

• Jason, Judah, and I had our first picture taken for the directory.
• And I got the picture taken voluntarily! (Yes, Mom: voluntarily. Itís crazy what changes come about after birthing a person).
• I worked in the nursery. All parents ìgetî to watch kids at least once a quarter. Initially, I was going to go home while Jason did duty, but I knew that at home we had a dishwasher ready to be installed, and the church had a nursery where I could entertain Judah in a tool-free environment.
• I got to watch Judah play with a friendís kid who is two months older than Judah but is a wisp of a child next to my tank: I hope heís not bruised.
• Iím going to get to run a dishwasher tonight (i.e. there was a successful installation of an appliance in my home - something that didnít happen often in my ìnativeî home).
• And, I got the attention of all of second service directed at me as my pastor outed me for having a blog (bet you thought you were in the clear, huh, Gregg. Sorry - Iím German, Irish, *and* Scottish: weíre stubborn, vindictive folks - fun, but with a taint).

Anyone from NFC: greetings! Feel free to look around. I promise you: this blog isnít all critiquing Sunday morning service as *some* people implied - I do have a few other thoughts rolling around in my head . . . like critiquing Yearly Meeting sessions. :)

This outing got me in such a fluster that I missed a lot of the service because my internal blogger started writing with a fury: justifications, excuses. You can find those on my Xanga, along with a pretty picture of my pastor (remember that aforementioned vindictive thing?). I also walked into a pew and banged my knee up pretty well while trying to make a ìsmoothî exit to run to the bathroom - yeah, so much for being anonymous in the balcony.

See, my pastor was introducing some folks who were going to share about a short term mission trip they took to Nicaragua, and he kept calling them by the wrong last name: I know one was a maiden name, not sure about the other. If I donít remember much of the service, how do I know they went to Nicaragua, pray tell? Because he kept wanting to call it Guatemala, and I thought that was funny.

Which is what got me in trouble in the first place - the whole thinking his “goofs” are funny bit - , as he pointed to me and my husband in our balcony Seats of Anonymity, and told the congregation that we had weblogs that chronicled everything that he said incorrectly. The entire congregation: ack.

First of all: this blog is called Aj Schwanz - me, itís all about me!! Me me me!! Second of all, Gregg preached one of my most transformation-causing messages, talking about how God doesnít delete the bad stuff but rather transforms it into the best stuff ever. And so, I appreciate transforming what he thinks is ìbad stuffî into great object lessons for me (me me me).
So, this morning got me thinking about how hard it is to change, especially under stress - we revert back to ìold and comfortableî ways. Case in point: referring to a person whoís been married for a while by her maiden name. Iíve done that a lot - I get flustered on the phone and introduce myself by my former last name: it just slips out. I wonder what it takes for Christ to truly change me, to get rid of that ìold natureî? Is it a constant focusing on him, like *all the time*? Does it become a habit? What happens when I get under stress? How can I turn to Him rather than reverting back to old stuff?

Just some questions to ponder . . . and a pastor to pester (you were wrong: I didnít just blog about it - I did it *twice*!! Donít mess with the German/Scotch/Irish!).

Have you ever heard the great They Might Be Giantís Song, ìYouíre Not the Boss of Me Now!î - itís the theme song for ìMalcolm in the Middle.î I enjoy it and sing it often, usually to my son when Iím trying to assert the idea that I have a semblance of control in my life (and he chuckles, ìFoolish mortalî).

My parents came down to visit on Thursday - the Gran had a hair appointment, and I had made some pathetic mentions that I didnít know when Iíd get to see Dad again anytime soon (she can read between the lines very well). While she was getting her mane tamed, Dad and I got into discussions that were theological in nature. I asked him how his church was doing, and he said, ìOh, weíre going under a *major* paradigm shift up at Rose Valley.î Iím not realizing that lots of things are major in Dadís life, whether other people are on board or not. But this truly is a big deal cause I checked it out with my mom.
Dadís paradigm shift: from initiating to receiving. In the initial Adam&Eve/God relationship God was the initiator and they were the receivers. But then they tried to be like God - to initiate - and the fall happened. So, itís our intended role to be the receivers, to receive what God has for us, to participate in what Heís already doing.

How can this occur? By having prayer times full of praise and thanksgiving rather than a list of requests. Dad said folks began their days with worship and praise, and their level of peace has increased dramatically. When a person comes to mind that you have a concern for, ask God what your role or involvement is - to help them, to hold them in His healing light, etc.

My mind is full of ìbutsî, and I find myself so often praying requests rather than praising. Itís hard to release the illusion that Iím in control, that I call the shots: ìGod, I want you to fix this and this and heal this person and save this situation and bring blessings into my life and give me direction.î Itís like Iím sticking my fingers in my ears and my tongue out at God and singing, ìYouíre Not the Boss of Me NOW!î, when really, he wrote the lick.

What Dad said is HUGE. Do you realize how big that is? Are we supposed to? I could analyze and criticize and dissect it to bits as my Renaissance natures desires ñ but Iím not gonna. Rather, Iím going to have faith: appreciate: live as God grafts into my life a new way of being.

Such a small world I live in! A friend referred me to the Emerging Women Leaders Initiative website, which I blogged about in its apparent dormancy. A fellow P-town area blogger gave me a name of a person heavily involved in it. Another friend actually is attending seminary with her. And so I received a wonderful email last night due to the small, subtly-intricate way God weaves connections on this mortal coil.

Just to let yíall know (no, Iím not Southern, so I shouldnít use ìyíall.î But most of my relative hail from the Crimson Tide state, and I think that should count, though my parents fled the ìterrorsî of the south - you know: no quality mountains to backpack in and atrocious heat/humidity levels. Man, how people manage to survive down there. ), hereís what Kelly had to say:

Our website fried and apparently there would be a several hundred dollar expense to resurrect the critter. This coincided with us completing the goals we aiming for in our EWLI stage one grant proposal on the Emergent Village site two years ago now, (as well as being out of $).

The increased profile and visible involvement of women in Emergent in these two years has phenomenal. EWLI stage two is low profile. As Emergent shifts a bit and identifies streams of emphasis, EWLI stage two will fold into the Diversity stream in order to more effectively integrate the EWLI values into Emergent. This could pave the way for a possible EWLI stage three with a more public focus again. We are also in the process of compiling a print journal from the EWLI National Consultation…

In the meantime I am delighted to say that because of EWLI events, a good number of women were encouraged and affirmed as leaders, and most importantly, forged networks and friendships they have maintained and built on. I know there are many, many more women who would love to have access to supportive networks and encouraging relationships. Because of this, as we conclude stage one we encourage all women who were inspired by the notion of EWLI, to gather groups of women from there vicinity around them. A number of women have and are doing just this which is sooo exciting! EWLI has no claim on the vital, creative, needed work of emerging women leaders everywhere, and where our work leaves off, we hope that others will pick up and do even more exciting things.

Here is a link to a great gathering coming up this spring…

How exciting!!!!

I also received an email from a friend in Idaho who is involved in the great website Allelon. Heís issued a request for folks, particularly of the feminine variety, to weigh in with their thoughts of involvement or the lack thereof in the ìchurch that is emerging.î

Please login to Allelon. I began to ask questions about this issue and there are not many women entering into the forum. I would love to get your input. I am concerned that the leadership contributions of women so necessary for the emergent conversation to continue is not happening. There are even places where it is actively opposed. Sometimes out of a narrow theology, sometimes out of a lack of awareness. Either case, I’d like to invite you to join in.

I havenít had time to put forth any thoughts: itís been a crazy week. But things are percolating, and at some point, my cup oíjava will spill forth. Thereís something going on . . . something exciting . . . something that is fresh and undisturbed yet ancient and familiar all at the same time. I donít know what it is; I donít know if Iíll ever know; I donít know if Iím supposed to know. But thereís a definite calling ñ a movement ñ a gentle whisper in the ear giving direction and wisdom and bubbling joy. Do you hear it? What is it saying to you? Are you being faithful to respond?

ìIím feeling terrible ñ I couldnít feel worse! Get me on my feet again. You promised, remember? When I told my story, you responded; train me well in your deep wisdom. Help me understand these things inside and out so I can ponder your miracle-wonders. My sad lifeís dilapidated, a falling down bard; build me up again by your word. Barricade the road that goes Nowhere; grace me with your clear revelation. I choose the True road to Somewhere. I post your road signs at every curve and corner. I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me; God, donít let me down! Iíll run the course you lay out for me if youíll just show me how.î ~ Psalm 119: 25-32 (MSG)

At least my pastor doesnít think so. Todayís service was bringing our study of Colossians to a close, applying all the good stuff weíve been learning there - not in an effort solely to better ourselves, but to help - bless - assist others in coming into the Light of Christ. Gregg said that it could be hard for Quakers because we tend to be more introverted than the ìnormalî population. He quickly said, ìI mean ëgeneralí - I didnít want to use that word.î Most people didnít care, but I was busting up - Iím sure he saw me giggling up in the balcony. I laughed because it was funny, but also because I think the freedom of expression that heís been showing in his blogging seems to be coming out in service as well.
I certainly wasnít offended at the statement; I donít think weíre normal, and I donít want to be normal. Normalís boring - itís Wonder Bread - itís the McDonaldization of the world. I want to be unique, to let the imprints of my individual fingertips make their mark in the world and be appreciated just as I think the Creator appreciated them when he took time to create my DNA that would carve them out.

This is why Iím drawn to the emerging conversation: it seems to be a gathering of folks who take time to appreciate, validate, and equip each other in unique, out-of-the-box calls.

This is why Iím drawn to my Quaker gatherings: itís a group of folks who historically have done things differently and have questioned the norm, being intentional in their daily lives so that all actions reflect Kingdom living, no matter how minuscule or ìnon-normalî it may seem.

So weíre not normal; weíre not general; and Iím happy about that.

A friend reminded me of this website - Emerging Women Leaders. I came across it a while ago, but forgot about it’s existence because it seemed, well, dormant. Does anyone know the story - how it began, what’s happened to it, if it’s relevant? I know of an ongoing list of Missional Chick Bloggers, but not all movin’ and shakin’ women are blogging - they’re too busy, well, movin’ and shakin’.

And if nothing’s being done with Emerging Women Leaders - website, conferences, blogging, communicating, etc. - should something be?

Man, you know, I’ve been thinking: my Bible’s just too heavy. And though I enjoy it for those good Bible Thumpin’s I’ve been known to give, I’m just praising Jesus that the Bible’s been translated into text speak. Glry glry haleloo.

I bet this would make Gregg’s sermon a lot shorter.
HT

Today I was listening to a story on NPR about being bi- and tri-lingual (the joke is that una-lingual folks are called Americans). ìLearning a second language is not necessarily required or expected of students in America — but virtually everywhere else in the world, it is. What factors determine what second languages Americans choose to learn?î

I also recently read a piece on Brian McLarenís blog on ìWhat is Post-Modernism?î which I found to be really wordy and text-booky: that might float some peoplesí boats, but blogs are more palatable for my gnat-sized attention span if theyíre conversational. But I thought about how people are kind of stuck on this whole ìmodern/post-modernî thing. I realized that itís almost a cultural thing - it doesnít restrict itself to a certain age group, but rather itís a way of perceiving and interacting with the world. If I donít speak Chinese, am I going to have a hard time speaking with a Chinese person? Probably. Will there be cultural things that donít translate or make sense? I would think so. But are we made of the same ìstuffî with the same desires and basic needs - physical, emotional, and spiritual? You bet ya.

So, with this whole new church/emerging conversation/modern & post-modern mindset jive, am I taking time to learn the other personís language? To realize that things (even basic things like the word ìchurchî which to some is a building and to others is a group of Christís followers) donít always translate evenly? Maybe before I dive into hefty conversations that could cause some miscommunication and frustration, I should take a deep breath and ask myself if Iím being bi-lingual.

How many languages do you speak? How did you pick them up? What’s your native tongue?

I’ve grown up in a pacifist tradition and welcome any opportunity to talk to folks about peaceful means of encountering the world. But blowing up Smurfs seems a bit extreme. Some might say extreme times call for extreme measures, but man: it’s a bit of a change from my childhood cartoon watching, wearing jammies with footies and eating Cheerios.

HT

There’s definitely a right answer to that question in our household. Ah yes, the latest phenomenon to hit the funny pages of the Oregonian: Sudoku, a Japanese number logic puzzle. Each day my husband comes home for lunch: we dole out sections of the paper - he gets Sports, and I get everything else. I quickly skim through stories, blurting out interesting things like , ìDid you know they might put tolls on 217? That sucks.î or ìDid you know that some hockey gear company and Nike have merged their logos?î (Cause my hubby likes hockey and business, and I like to sound like I know what Iím talking about, so I skim for things he likes, mention it, and let him pontificate).

But I always save the best for last - the Sudoku puzzle. My pen is ready - it changes daily depending on how many puzzles I have finished with it historically. I like these puzzles because my contribution doesnít rest on remembering random trivia and I can’t hear my mother in my head bemoaning the fact that phonics ruined my ability to spell (heh heh - right there, I seriously just couldnít spell phonics. I laughed: you should, too - except my mother, who will be shaking her head all the more). All the pieces are there - numbers and/or letters depending on how big you can Sudoku (I have yet to tackle the Sunday Monster Sudoku: too scary): you just have to look at the big picture and arrange them properly.

Today I was talking with a friend about young adult ministry. Actually, I was telling him to stop feeling so pressured about his job, to ìhold things looselyî, to recognize that while he might have vision of where we need to go that he canít solely steer us in that direction.

And then I started talking about how I donít follow the advice that I just gave. I have those feelings and desires about certain areas of my life, particularly being on boards and committees. I just got a notice from one board about an upcoming meeting: weíre evaluating our current programs - are they good? Are they doing what they should? Why did they originate in the first place? Are they meeting those needs, or have the needs changed? And so for a week since receiving the letter, Iíve been pondering which Mr. Potato Head eyes Iím going to wear - happy, mad, or scary.

Part of me is selfish. Thereís a chunk of change for some of these programs, and Iíd like to take it and do young adult ministries with it: travel to churches in the NW, meet with folks who have a concern or compassion for young adult ministries, talk about the personality and distinctives of their particular area, and dream up ways of living out Godís love in their present reality. Part of me is idealistic: I could do it! Iíve got free time and connections and the passion! Part of me is realistic: I also have a husband and a one year old. Will people ever change? Are my desires in line with Gods (at least in how they come about?). And who says that the folks on the board would even think itís a good thing?

The reason I went to check in with my friend is because Iíve been concerned for him: heís seemed . . . driven yet discouraged, idealistic yet realistic, free to explore yet loaded with responsibility. And folks can only have so many opposing dichotomies before they tear. But a wonderfully wise woman gave me an image of this friendís work: ìHeís in labor! Heís birthing something new in the Kingdom, but right now heís stuck in the eighth or ninth month, and we all know thatís just plain uncomfortable!î

For myself, I feel like Iím looking at a Sudoku puzzle of my life: all the pieces are there, but theyíre not arranged quite right. Iím so focused by a certain box of nine squares that Iím not seeing the larger picture, and yet Iím distracted by flitting around with this chunk and then that chunk that Iím overwhelmed.

Thereís so much release and relief once one piece falls into place and the rest do the same: I often smack my head and wonder why I didnít see it before. The trite answer could be ìitís all in Godís timingî - which does have relevance, but it also has to do with my sight - my vision - my training and thinking and preparing and submitting myself fully to Godís desires for my life and the life of this Yearly Meeting and Godís greater Kingdom.

So, should we start offering up Sudoku puzzles to work on during open worship? A new listening exercise for our Listening Life Groups? Or maybe I should just stick to my kitchen table listening practice.