Aj Schwanz

The other day I hit that nasty point: it was gray, the toddler was . . . well, a toddler, and it was close to “Dada’s HOME!” time. What to do until then? Turn on the babysitter which that day happened to be Oprah. She was interviewing Mireille Guiliano, president and CEO of Clicquot and author of French Women Don’t Get Fat which has hit the American bestseller list as a diet/lifestyle book. She describes the French lifestyle which involves pleasure in moderation.

• Rather than eating mass quantities of empty calories, eat hearty, healthy food in smaller portions.
• Rather than cutting out foods, use moderation and eat at a slower pace, spending each moment savoring.
• Rather than working out at the gym, try adding some added activity to your daily life.

In general Americans seem to jump on the next fad, hence the yo-yo effect being present in almost all elements of our lives. Oooh: something new – how can we cram it into our already full lives so that we feel even more empty?

I wonder what it would look like if this book was written about spirituality. Rather than trying to do bible studies and small groups and worship on Sunday and individual devotions and committee work and social work – what if I slowed down and took small, savory bites, being present in the moment with the Spirit? When I fill my life with activities that aren’t so meaningful, I come away hungry, and the general reaction is to try and *do* more stuff.

Pleasure and spirituality don’t seem to be partners; in fact, many people have been against the coupling. Can there be harmony between the two? Should there be? Has there been a deprivation of certain “foods” in our spirituality so that we yo-yo on empty calories?

Where are you being fed and satisfied?

I was never a girly-girl (you might have caught on by my adament refusal to call my bag a “purse”). To me in my growing-up years, girly-girls were teeny tiny petite creatures who wore tank tops and short shorts and had mile-high bangs (it got them closer to God). They watched “Full House” and played with Barbies and knew how to do backflips and loved Tiffany. Their handwriting was full of bubble letters and “i”s dotted with hearts. Teachers loved them; boys chased them; and I mostly watched from the sidelines.

In middle school I started down the girly road (which, yes, did include pom poms and the mile-high bangs), but my move to Oregon coupled with the rise of the grunge period allowed me to remain in a non-girly zone. Actually, all genders pretty much resembled each other in their Value Village plaids, form-hiding jeans, and Converse. Girly-girls remained, but at my high school that often meant adding drinking and potential-impregnantion to the roster: yeah, not gonna go there.

My grandmother died the summer before my senior year of college. We flew back in the summer to say goodbye, to begin the estate distribution (i.e. tossing out the stacks of margarine containers and Halloween costumes of my father’s childhood). I met some distant cousins for the first time I could really remember. They were born and raised in the South – the essential Southern gentlemen. Never had I heard “yes, ma’am” and had doors opened for me so often! My glass would get a little low, and one would jump up to get me something for my “parched throat.” FUN!

But with that fun also comes a price. My dad, uncle, cousin, and I were standing in a group, talking about some sort of estate something-or-other. I had a brilliant idea, can’t remember what it was now, but I’m sure that doesn’t detract from it’s brilliance, I’m sure. I blurted it out, so impressed that I could participate in the adult conversation. My cousin, at least ten years older than me, gave me a look and a smile, and continued to talk as though I hadn’t said anything. Puzzling over what just happened, I heard my dad mention something – the *exact* same thing I had just said – to which the cousin said, “What a great idea!” (See, it was brilliant).

Huh?

I was treated like a girl. Correction: I was treated like a girl, and being a girl meant I had no brains.

This happened to me in Idaho as well, particularly at the library, where regulars would be oh-so-charming to the young library assistant, but the tone definitely changed if I spoke of something with substance.

A few weeks back was International Women’s Day. A person called for a gridblog on this day. I thought about participating, but as I read the different posts, I didn’t really feel like I could participate with the group. See, my experience in life has been very different. In general, I’m acknowledged, blessed, and encouraged in my callings – supporting or leading – by both genders. My actions and essence don’t stem from being a girl: they come from being me.

I’ve noticed a number of posts talking about women and leadership – too many to dismiss as happenstance.

• The Real Tradition of Women and Church Leadership HT
• Emerging Peter: Wives and Husbands 1 (part of series) HT
• podcast: women, the emerging church and male cultures HT
• The Eternal Subordination of Christ and of Women HT
• Top Ten Reasons Why Men Should Not Be Ordained HT
• A Can of Worms

Interesting, eh?

What have been your experiences? What are your thoughts? Mine are still percolating. . .

An instant message notifier pops up on my computer screen.

jschwanz: Have you heard the news?
Aj: Mp. No. (I had my fingers on the wrong keys.)
jschwanz: the christian peacemaker team was rescued
Aj: oh, yes: did see that. thank you
jschwanz: heard it on npr
Aj: yes: very cool, and sad – all at the same time
jschwanz: yup

I heard it this morning while catching the “real news” portion of the Today Show. My heart jumped a bit: hurrah! They’re safe! And then my heart paused: if only it had been sooner . . .

It does me and others no good to think in such a way. I don’t believe that God destined Tom Fox to die in such a way, but I do believe that God will use this horrible event and redeem it to be something to bring about good. What is God doing now? I believe Tom Fox would want us to keep attuned to the Spirit’s movements rather than spend time in regret and “if only” – to question does not honor his memory, his actions which seemed to go unquestioningly, selflessly after God’s leadings of compassion.

I came across this interesting post while looking at news stories.

7. The number of Christian Peacemakers in Iraq is extremely small. Their positive effect and peacemaking work is disproportionate to their size.

9. The goodwill that the Christian peacemakers elicited from the community around them may have had a great deal to do with the intelligence that appears to have played an important part in their release.

10. Christian peacemakers point that what the friends and family of Norman Kember, Harmeet Sooden, James Loney and Tom Fox have been through in the last 4 months is very similar to what the families of detainees of American and British forces have been going through on a daily basis for 3 years.

The last one struck me. As we have rallied for the release of “our” hostages, outraged that their rights and humanity were stripped away, what is my call towards those that are experiencing the same . . . at the hands of *our* people?

8. When the peacemakers were taken hostage, calls for their release flooded in from Muslims all around the world.

It’s time to step up.

Greetings~

I feel like I should start off with a timid “allo.” I’ve been checked out for a while: sick babies, blogger apathy, busy schedule. It’s not so cool on the blogosphere to just up and not post, especially when part of blogging is to build a report with others. I’ve missed connecting with my online friends: so, how y’all doing?

Wouldn’t it be great to read that everything is splendiferous in Schwanzland: growing, blossoming, shining, brimming with love and direction and praise? But if I said that, I’d sound like Scarlett O’Hara when she’s trying to fake out Rhett Butler in jail to get some money: no plantation-saving or curtain-wearing going on, but still – it hasn’t been all peachy keen.

NOTICINGS
I’ve noticed a certain amount of apathy and/or crabbiness present at the moment – personally and universally. It could be the time of year; it could be the state of the world; it could be the Spirit moving (or not moving).

Blogging
Bloggers are talking about being bored: they started blogging either to process verbally or connect with others or push an agenda – for whatever reason, their goals/needs aren’t being met. It’s really hard not to write for comments! To get that instant validation that others are reading, processing, responding. But that type of writing (or topics) often attracts folks who aren’t interested in conversing, but in arguing and pushing a point.

Part of it may be the overwhelming amount of information out on the internet. To give a thoughtful response takes time: it takes being present in the moment. But how to be present when there’s too many places and not enough moments? Being the perfectionist that I am, it’s easier just to shut down and check out, particularly when I’m feeling directionless with my own thoughts/writings.

Churching
Church folks seem to be unsettled. Emerging church folks seem to be restless to stop talking and start living but don’t know how, and the critics seem to be getting crankier and crabbier and more judgmental (one example: a friend on Sunday asked me, “When did ‘emerging’ become a four-letter word?”).

Can you feel the friction? Do you notice the tension? It seems to occur when God’s getting ready to do a new thing. But it’s so easy to retreat to my corner and secure myself with tradition and history: God calls me to a new thing – it doesn’t mean that the old was wrong or needs defending.

Women Leaders
I’ve been working on a project focused on advocating for and equipping women leaders – both in helping women lead and folks “adjust/support” such leadership. But I read a blog that threw me into a bit of a tailspin. This organization has had such awareness/training/exposure, and yet women leaders are still lacking . . . and they don’t know why. Can this trend not be broken?

Or is the traditional look of leadership on its way out? Perhaps God is calling out a new look to “leadership.” What does that look like, then? Should the focus then be on equipping folks mutually rather than on one specific gender?

Spring
Ugh: will it be here already? Last year it didn’t seem quite so gray, and since my son was so small, I had the bonus of the “happy chemicals” that come with nursing. But they’re gone – the gray is here – my allergies and headaches are back – my bootie’s bigger – and the desire to do anything about it must be hiding in the back pocket of one of my pre-pregnancy jeans.

This means I’m a bit more of a homebody. It’s hard to go out when you’re not feeling good, physically or emotionally, and your baby’s adopted the lungs of an 8 pack a day smoker. Combined with the spiritual unrest, and I’d prefer just to spend my time watching Chefography (which my Mama taped for me: wee!) and reading Celebrity Baby blog.

Questions
I think the mind-numbing activities sound attractive (though I am reading A Tale of Two Cities at the moment – it’s actually good! Heh heh) more to quiet the rumblings in my head that don’t seem to be resolving.

• Why is it that “emerging” is a bad word? How can critics not see how ugly they’re acting?
• What is God doing? How am I called to be a part? What does that look like?
• What does mutuality in leadership look like? Do women need to be leading more upfront like men tend to, or is God moving us away from that distinctive?
• Folks are doing some *amazing* things online: community-oriented, collaborative, open-source – how is God moving there? How is that part of Kingdom living?
• How are my actions and daily living affecting things in the Middle East? What can I do to help untangle our troops?
• Will my son’s cough and runny nose ever go away?
• Will CTU really be taken over by Homeland? Is *everyone* is Jack Bauer’s life a double-agent? How many bad days can one man have?

Okay, so some of my questions aren’t so serious or soul-distressing. But some of them poke at me at a daily if not hourly basis. If I was doing what I should, I’d recognize that they are “comment notifications” from God – a sort of “hello, come chat!” But I don’t always.

So that’s what I’ve been thinking about. How are y’all doing?

I woke up this morning in a funk. It could be the fact that my son woke up too early, yowling. It could be the constant gray skies that slowly wear away my reserve of sunny hopefulness. It could be that something’s moving in the Spirit: who knows.

It snowed here last week – a freak dumping of very wet snow that did nothing but cause a little two-hour delay for public schools. While the valley floor cleared off quickly, the hills remained white into the weekend. On Friday in a brief bit a sunshine, I looked up and saw the vineyards outlined with white, and an ache opened in my heart. “Oh, I miss that,” I thought. I miss my Idaho winters, with their ice blue skies and white winter ground and dry, dry air. How can I ache for something like that? Why does it rouse such a strong impulse to drive east until I pass a sign that says “Welcome to the Gem State” and never look West again? Where do those feelings come from?

This morning I read multiple blogs posting about the passing of Tom Fox: he was part of the kidnapped Christian Peacemaker Team in Iraq. And that ache opened in my heart again: an ache for his family and loved ones, a desire for things like this to STOP HAPPENING, a yearning for peace and understanding foreverandeveramen. I don’t know Tom Fox: I haven’t met him, and to be honest, I thought of him randomly – passing prayers of “Lord, please be with the team.” And yet there’s part of my heart that’s grieving for this unknown, personally-unexperienced situation: I grieve the loss of an amazing friend of God; I grieve the loss of my dream of this issue resolving itself; I grieve that death most likely was not peaceful or easy; I grieve the evil that has been committed.

Some might say his actions were foolish, but what’s better – a fool for God or “wise” for one’s own selfish desires? Now is a time to come together – to speak love – to flow into peace – to come into God’s presence and seek His healing, comforting glory.

I know U2′s become the new, hip, “sacred in the secular” group to quote, but this song has great meaning to me. Ever since I’ve heard it, it’s been the lullaby I sing to the little ones I’ve watched: a prayer of blessing (and sometimes desperation) over them. And so I offer this as my prayer in memory of Tom Fox.

“M.L.K.”
Sleep
Sleep tonight
And may your dreams
Be realized
If the thunder cloud
Passes rain
So let it rain
Rain down him
So let it be
So let it be

Sleep
Sleep tonight
And may your dreams
Be realized
If the thundercloud
Passes rain
So let it rain
Let it rain
Rain on him

Is your church gathering growing?

Folks who are taking part in the emerging conversation seem to be part of worship gatherings that are multiplying; I’ve heard a number of folks compare qualities of those gatherings and that of Quaker meetings.

But Quaker churches aren’t growing that I know of . . .

If folks are attracted to those basic principles present with Friends, then why does it seem like Quaker gatherings are dwindling into the background?

So this meme has been floating around for some time, and I’ve been feeling left out. But then my friend who plays online almost as much as me tagged me: and now I feel like part of the ‘cool kids.’

Four Jobs Iíve had:

• Elevator operator girl (it was a short gig, running the elevator in EHS for a play night at Newberg High. It was Christmas time, so I brought a tape player and played Bing and Nat: I also dragged in a plant from the foyer for ambiance. I didn’t receive pay, but did receive thanks in the play program and a certificate stating that I was the top Elevator Operator Girl Ever)
• High ropes course facilitator at Tilikum’s Challenge Course (it’s fun to hang kids, and mouthy NIKE employees, from trees)
• Library assistant in circulation and young adult collection supervisor at Ada Community Library (Yes, sir, you do have a lost book on your record. No, sir, we did not forget to check it in. Yes, sir, we did check the shelves. No, sir, someone did not break into the book return to steal the 1976 Ford Chilton’s car manual. Yes, sir, I do have a college degree and am not stupid.)
• Youth Intern at NWYM (which included counseling camps, running Junior High Yearly Meeting, being gopher girl at camps, carrying tiki torches in my car, calling in all my favors with all my friends to pleasebeacounselorforthisweeki’llsooweyou!, running my friend Sheila in from the coast to Beaverton after she sliced a couple inches of flesh out of knee after tripping and falling on a log, and sleeping pretty much never)

Four movies I could watch over and over:

• Grosse Pointe Blanke (“My home is an Ultimart! I can never go home, Oatman, but I guess I can shop there.”)
• Reality Bites (“‘Quick, Vic, what’s your Social Security number?’ ’851-259-357′ ‘Very impressive.’ ‘It’s the only thing I truly learned in college.’”)
• Mary Poppins (“Close your mouth please, Michael, we are not a cod fish.”)
• Dude, Where’s My Car? (“‘And then?’ ‘I refuse to play your Chinese food mind games!’”)

Four books I have read over and over:

• I Am A Bunny (my son’s current favorite) – Ole Risom & Richard Scarry
• Anne of Green Gables – L.M. Montgomery
• Little Women – Louisa May Alcott (dude, I’m such a girl)
• The Pushcart War – Jean Merrill

Four places Iíve lived:

• Puyallup, WA
• Boise, ID
• Helena, MT
• Newberg, OR

Four places Iíve vacationed:

• Kihei, HI
• Trollers Lodge in Depoe Bay, OR
• Mt. Ashland Inn – Ashland, OR
• Backpacking with my Pappy to Blue Lake, ID

Four tv shows I love:

• Arrested Development (a new-found and now short-lived love)
• Garfield and Friends
• Northern Exposure
• Iron Chef: America

Four favorite dishes:

• Rice Bowl from House of Teriyaki (no rice)
• Veggie Omelette from The Ranch House (RIP)
• Veggies and Tofu from Chan’s
• Veggie Omelette at Goldy’s Breakfsat Bistroy

Four websites I visit daily:

• Xanga
• Bloglines
• MeasureMap
• Dooce

Four places Iíd rather be right now:

• Asleep in a big bed without my cat (who had a bad night of sleep last night? hmmmm)
• On the beach at the Cook Islands with wireless, my computer, my hubby, and my bebe
• Sitting outside Cafe Ole on a summer Alive After Five Wednesday
• Where’s U2 right now?

(Bobís addition) Four things that make me warmly happy:

• The blanket my mama just made for me
• Hearing people talk about how smiley Judah is
• Thinking about when I told my brother graphic details of pregnancy (like the words “dilate” and “plug” among other things – HA!)
• Remembering the first night Judah was born, with both my boys breathing deeply while sleeping and me too tired and happy to sleep

TAG:

• Mauri & Sherry (this is my way of blog-outing them )
• Jimmy Barnhill (cause Gregg somehow missed tagging one of the the Funniest Person on the Earth)
• Doug Pagitt (cause I’m sure he has nothing else to do and certainly remembers me )
• Amy – my fellow work widow – (can you feel the boys’ eyeballs rolling? )

So a boring old traditional church *can* show glimmers of technological saavy: our meeting was featured on a local news station because our services are available online. AND our group is SO welcoming that we tried to get the reporter to join in the service by ushering: ha!

Check it out.

A couple of weeks ago an experience in church brought me to write about Quakers and sacraments (focusing on rules/expressions vs. focusing on the intent behind rules/expressions). I thought my frustration was a generational thing, i.e. me being a punk young adult. But a woman in my small group voiced similar thoughts, commenting “It’s just rules. And God’s taught me that God works through relationships, not rules.”

Lately I’ve been thinking about recovery programs. Somewhere recently I read a comment about how folks in recovery programs are some of the few people who live holistic lives: they have to in order to recover – compartmentalizing helped get them in the bad place. I’ve read a few blogs that are focused on recovery, and man: they have some heavy, weighty, quality things to say.

Tonight in small group that same woman spoke to me, asking if I knew anything about 12 Step programs, because she felt like she might want to experience one. Kindred spirits we are, eh? Or perhaps attuned to the same God murmurs.

This woman is one of my favorite people, one who gives me such hope. She’s of the same generation as my grandparents, and every week in group she talks about what God’s teaching her. She listens so intentionally all the time: hasn’t He taught her everything yet?!! I’m so happy to hear that there are older folks who are still listening to God, still being taught by God, and still have such a fresh outlook on life and love: I could be like that, too!

We both have expressed how we struggle with *knowing*, with *faith*, with trying to truly hear God’s direction and call for us. I found a quote from Madeleine L’Engle, another kindred spirit, who I think sums up some of our experience quite nicely.

I do not think that I will ever reach a stage when I will say, “This is what I believe. Finished.” What I believe is alive… and open to growth.

Thank you, kindred friends.