Aj Schwanz

Johan Mauer, the Quaker Ranter, and Beppe have posts and links regarding the Christian Peacemaker Team members who were kidnapped in Iraq.

*Please pray*

Yesterday I scanned the radio for a station playing Christmas music and stopped when I heard Mariah Carey’s version of “All I Want For Christmas is You”. Then the station played its call letters - it was the local Christian station.

Hmm.

Then I heard a song about Santa.

Hmm.

And I wonder why the message of Christ has gotten a bit muddled . . .

Best get back to my online shopping - cause *that’s* what Christmas is all about . . . right?

Do you ever think you know someone - their ins and outs; ups and downs; high points, low points, and all the other Seussisms inbetween - to the point that you take it for granted? The person become familiar - understood - tame - static - boring - flat - dead: youíre more acquainted with your idea of them that you are with the real thing?

Then someone comes along and tells you about an encounter with that person - something that blows your non-living idea of the person right out of the water, causes you to say, ìAre we talking about the same person?î I remember when my brother entered high school: as more folks got to know him, I kept hearing, ìYour brother is *hilarious*!î ìHeís so funny.î ìHeís so outgoing - where does he get it?î

Um, I donít know: the brother I know (or think I know) is rather quiet, introverted, and not very amusing. Or was it that I thought of him that way and therefore looked for those qualities, and it took a different person to point out other elements of his person, to bring life to my lifeless impression of my brother?

My dadís just introduced me to the teachings of a man named Graham Cooke, and Graham is introducing me to a whole new God - a God I donít know, or rather havenít been looking for. Grahamís God is compassionate, caring, ìthe kindest person I knowî. The God I know is compassionate . . . when I figure out all of my sins to confess over and over and over; caring . . . as long as I turn myself inside out trying to figure out what He wants me to do; the kindest person I know . . . when I do the right things - all the time - of my own power.

Graham works with prophetic ministries, something Iím not very familiar with but ache for more of in our church because that would mean people were in day by day, moment by moment contact with the Spirit. He talks about true versus false prophesy - false prophesy condemns, but true prophesy points out where God is missing. He clarifies our right desires as being God-placed, because everything good comes from God, so if we desire something good, then God desires that thing. Problems arenít obstacles to overcome; theyíre times to step back and look for what God wants to say to us. He says that unlike us, God isnít obsessed with sin: Heís got us covered in Christ - He took care of that. But He is obsessed with us becoming the people weíre supposed to be in Christ. And thereís just *so* *much* *more* GREAT STUFF!

These are things Iíve heard but interpreted with a negative lens. But Graham explains it with such kindness, love, and gentleness - it makes me ache to know his God! *This* is who my friends have been looking for; *this* is a God I want my son to know; *this* is the True God - worthy of worship and thanksgiving; this is *not* a weak - boring - tame - dead God whoís obsessed with rules and regulations.

GOD - fill this earth with your True Self! Would You open our eyes so that we may see and encounter the Real You, not the lifeless image weíve created and grown accustomed to (that sounds a little like idol worship, doesnít it?)? Thank You so much for bringing your Word to prophets such as Graham into our lives; thank You for being present among us.

[If youíd like to know more about Graham, I have videotapes and transcriptions of them that my dad made (he *really* likes Graham). If youíve had any experience with Graham or similar folks, Iíd love to hear about it, and I know others whoíd love to hear as well.]

So Iíve been having weird dreams lately (well, when are dreams *not* weird? That in itself would be odd). Two nights ago I dreamed about having a tea party with Shirley McLaine and the wife of the president at my hubbyís place of employment. Last night I dreamt that my friend Erinnís daughter had a tendency to wander around town without shoes on - just walking up and down the street. I walked her back to the church where it was Wednesday arts and crafts night, and the George Fox campus pastor was teaching the father of the previous campus pastor how to make a new kind of apple pie.

But then today I had a sort of waking dream - not so much a dream, but a progression of thoughts and images that I donít think I constructed. I was getting ready this morning and thinking about Paris Hilton - I have no idea why. My mom was taking care of the Little One who was yowly, so I was throwing myself together to get back into MomDuty. I thought about how it would stink to always be in the media eye, to need to look together all the time, for your livelihood to depend so much on that.

And then I started to get a little bitter and resentful, thinking about all the money she has and, in my opinion, wastes on selfish whims. I thought about how hard it would be to minister to folks in Hollywood, to be placed by the call of God to speak His love into their lives ñ and not to get sucked in to their materialism. Talk about needing to be in the presence of God *every* *single* *second*. How do you live around that much STUFF and not sell out to it?

And then there was a tweaking to my thinking, a sort of change Iíve experienced only from a certain Loving Being who shifts my initial judgements onto magnifying glass on my own life. I donít think of myself as rich by any means, but Iím sure folks in other countries would. And every day I have bountiful opportunities to spend my time/energy/resources/love on myself . . . or I can spend time practicing the presence and see what God has in store for me. I read somewhere about an American woman talking with a woman from the Middle East and asking how she dealt with having fewer freedoms (what the American woman saw as oppression); the Middle Eastern woman said she and her peers were so thankful for the opportunities they did have, and the lack of pressure in having to deal with such freedom that we have - they knew their place and found freedom in that, and they felt sorry for American woman - wondering how they could be faithful to their roles in life without selling out to things they shouldnít.

Interesting, random thoughts for a Sunday morning.

Hope y’all had a Happy TurkeyDay, full of quality community and hearty food and time to soak in God’s abundant blessings (unless you’re in a dry place, and then I hope basked in God’s warming sun).

Speaking of wet and dry places, abundance and barrenness, manifestation and hiding - have you thought about your spiritual journey lately? My small group has reached a point of contemplating, describing, and sharing our spiritual journeys. I’ve done this before: from high school camps to dorm floor bonding times to other small group experiences, a critical element in being transparent with each other is sharing where you’ve been - helps out with the whole “where are you going?” element.

What’s your favorite way to share? I know there’s different ways to do it - drawing a map, bringing in favorite pictures or books or other important items. . . . How do you contintually share your story, your lifewalk with God, without it sounding boring or trite?

What’s been something important to you in sharing your journey? Where’s God walking with you now?

Interesting “This I Believe” today - thoughts? I would respond, but it’s got me in a bit of a whirlygig - and it’s hard to type in a whirlygig: the keyboard letters just keep spinning . . .

My brother and I were chatting last night - enjoying our rockiní Saturday nights at our computers. He was discussing his quandary about whether to join the next generation of gaming or to call it quits with his PS2. I asked if he could play the upcoming version of Rush - a racing game he thoroughly enjoyed on his N64: he and his friend would play for hours, beat boxing to the music - oh, the good times. He said that it was compatible, but that he would not be purchasing it because they tampered with the format to make it more like Grand Theft Auto. Which led us to a discussion about leaving good things alone and how the Mario franchise learned that after dinking around with Mario 2.

But then, after we discussed it for a while, I had to confess something to him: I donít know the Mario games - well, I do on N64 and up, but I donít know the old school stuff. All of my knowledge comes second hand from my friends reminiscing about the grand times they had playing that game. See, we were an anti-gaming household - books and friends and the big back yard were our distractions. I think Mom thought video games were just going to be a passing fad, not the enormous cultural activity that itís become.

When I got to play Mario, it was over at a someone elseís house who usually had already beaten all the levels and just wanted to warp ìto the good stuff.î My brother mustíve had friends who didnít mind playing everything over again, but Iíve never gotten the whole gaming experience. And I couldnít tell them apart, either.

I know many folks donít think itís a big deal: who cares if you canít tell an antiquated game apart from another? Youíre educated in reading and in quality friendships and knowing how many somersaults it takes to get to the end of the driveway! But Iíve always felt a little left out of my generation not having participated in that particular element: kind of like the missionary kid who comes back and doesnít know any of the tv shows or movies (Jason has a coworker who doesnít know what ìFraggle Rockî is because she grew up in Germany - oh, the travesty!). Itís not so much that I wish I knew the game, but that I could participate in the shared experience of others.

Iíve been reading the blog of a friend whoís has or is in the process of no longer attending organized/institutional church. That seems to be a theme Iím seeing: my friends all leaving, not necessarily going to anything, but just leaving. Is this something common to being our age? ñ did people before us leave the church in their twenties and come back later? Or is it something specific to our generation? Is this a passing fad, or a new cultural element thatís here to stay? When we reminisce in twenty years, whoís going to feel left out of the shared experience - those who ìleftî, or those who ìstayedî?

Sometimes Iím good at picking up on things; sometimes, not so much. For instance, I pretty much knew when my husband was going to propose because he was mysteriously gone one evening and wouldnít say really where heíd been (shopping for a ring), and then one afternoon he was *determined* to go hiking when heís rarely determined to do anything (wanting to propose in a pretty place) and he wouldnít take his hand out of his pocket (clinging to the ring). But other times I canít figure out things, like when Judahís really snarly and I give him a bagel and then milk and then try to give him toys or let him whang on my computer but the crabbies cease to disappear, and then Jason comes by and informs me that according to the readings of his nose, Judahís taken a dump.

Lately thereís been a lot of ìcoincidencesî in my life. And much as ìThe Matrixî chalks deja vu up to being ëa glitch in the matrixí, I donít believe that ìcoincidencesî are always just some random connection of things that Iíve noticed ñ I think they have meaning, but Iím not clear on what that meaning is.

For instance, in my Bible study, *every frickin week* the speaker talks on something that Iíve already come into contact with (and no, Iím not talking about ìwow, she talked on Psalm 119! What a coincidence! I read that all week. Whatís the name of this Bible Study? Oh yeah, something about Seeking after the Purity of God as written about in Psalm 119 . . . ?î).

In reading through the Old Testament, I came to the part where God outlines every teeny tiny little detail that the priests have to do to make themselves holy to come into Godís presence so that God can forgive the sins of the people and be in an intimate relationship with them (i.e. work their butts off so that their butts donít eternally fry). And then the speaker talked about that exact thing the next day.

In my Listening Life group we went through an image prayer of Blind Bartemeus with the intention of coming to Christ and telling him what our hearts desire - ìSon of David, have mercy on me!î ìWhat do you want?î ìI want to see.î. The next day: she spoke on it.

Again, LLG: image prayer with Jacob and the angel wrestling - ìwhat is your name?î Bam: next day mentioned.

I wrote material for a week of Listening Life and had folks reflect on Joel 2 - a book of the Bible that I certainly donít hear much about. The week we were reflecting on my lesson, SHE TALKED ABOUT THAT SCRIPTURE THE NEXT DAY! Joel 2! Who talks about Joel 2?!! I donít even know where I came across it to incorporate it into my lesson.

Itís starting to wig me out. And Iím sure folks are wondering why this bothers me, all these themes and commonalities running through my listening life. Itís because I donít know what to do with them if Iím supposed to do anything at all. Some coincidences I do: I was recently blown away hearing the stories of some recovering addicts who are finding freedom and healing and wholeness through a recovery program offered by a church; my mindís been dwelling on their testimonies - their downtimes are really down, and their high times are really high, but they truly see God - do I see God working so vividly and miraculously through my lifeís mediocre bumps? So when I received a letter asking if Iíd like to contribute somehow in a Celebrate Recovery program being started at my worship gathering, that was pretty much a ìwell, duh.î

But this other stuff is just so . . . vague ñ non-specific ñ seemingly-directionless ñ weird.

Has this happened to you? Is this happening to you? Is it a bi-product of listening, or just a glitch in the Matrix? What are you hearing?

Does anyone have any thoughts, concerns, or compassions for my friend?

My friend Steve-O and I were having a conversation the other day: actually, I was pouring out my conundrum-filled heart and seeking counsel. See, next Sunday thereís two good things going on - a couple hundred miles apart. And I want to be at both because Iím asserting my right as an American to Want It All. But No One has granted my deepest desire as a mother to be able to split into two. And that same slacker No One hasnít figured out affordable teleportation yet. So: state of conundrum.

My wise friend asked a question (heís good about asking questions rather than pronouncing judgments): was I making a choice out of fear or out of love? Many times choices in ministry are made out of fear rather than a God-placed compassion:

• What if all the young adults leave?!! Letís make a program to lure them back in!
• What if people stop tithing?!! Letís do a guilt-laden sermon on how to spend money!
• What if another church offers a program or ministry we donít have, and then folks attend there instead of here? Weíd better offer it, too, even though we have no resources and are totally strapped as it is!
• What if people question if weíre Quaker-enough or Emerging-enough or Evangelical-enough or Post-modern-enough or Conservative-enough or Community-oriented-enough or Socially-active-enough or . . . ? Weíd better throw something together right quick!

I find myself doing that with parenting as well. I wonder if Judah should be watching more PBS kids so that he can absorb the bi-lingual programs, or maybe he shouldnít watch tv at all because tv is bad. Did he nurse long enough? What if I cut him off too soon and he grows up with a detachment disorder? Am I giving him enough protein? What if he doesnít like to eat veggies? Will he eat bagels and string cheese for the rest of his life? What if I donít have Baby Einstein playing in the background while weíre going over shapes and doing baby yoga? Oh, it can be so overwhelming.

But what if I make parenting decisions moving out of a place of love? I love Judah, and I love seeing his excitement when he learns new things: letís play with shapes together. I love seeing how much Judah is enamored when a good song comes on the radio: letís have some music playing for him to enjoy. I love seeing him feeling and acting well: Iíll feed him what keeps him on an even-keel and keeps our relationship healthy (which doesnít happen when I try to shovel food down his throat that he doesnít like - yes, he protests a bit).

And what would that look like if I was part of the Church thatís grounded in Godís love and moved from there, from what His call rather than my panic that I might miss out on something? Just because itís a good thing doesnít mean that Iím called to do it: sometimes I have to say ìnoî (see the above ìwishes not grantedî for reasons why). Do I want to move out of the panic of fear, or the peace of love?

So Iíve come to peace with my options for next Sunday thanks to wise words from my friend Steve-O (although itís rather interesting that Iím going to the thing that *heíll* be at and that he wanted me to come to . . . hmmmm . . . . ).