Release

The invitation into the extraordinary is extended to everyone! that hit me this weekend in a new way.
So i am called, but so are others... really there is nothing special there - and everything is special.

I was on a retreat at Still Harbor this weekend, and there are many many thoughts to share, but his poem came this morning, as we were reflecting on the the weekend and what we came in as "knowing to be true"and what we are taking away.
my last on a list of things i "knew to be true"i wrote down on friday was "I am called to speak up for those who are not heard" But i was realizing saying "Be a voice for the voiceless" is very different from the call in Isaiah 42:6-7 that i connect with my calling in many ways.

So, here goes:

Release

Before, I heard a call to be a voice
   to speak
   to yell
No one is listening
   to those on the fringes, the margins.
They do have a voice but it is not heard and I pound my fists
     Hello?!!
Truth is in love of others, in life, in community
What do i know?
    Know for certain to be true
God is. Love.
Yes, and truth is, alive.
    breathing.
Seek in wonder
   open your eyes and see
       the gift that is
let go of what should be better
   as if I know
      truth
   for her?
Her voice may no be heard, but she is.
  what is her truth?
  vital = life giving, dreams and hopes
     and yes, fears?
Perhaps I heard the call and jumped to the wrong conclusion
    I am not to speak for her - Release!
"Open eyes that are blind"
          so they can see
    the gift that is
"Free captives from prison"
          so they can walk, explore, speak
    in freedom, themselves free
"and release from the dungeon
           those who sit in darkness"
    to light.
Truth is alive, and I don't know what it is
     she is trying to say
           so step out into the light
     open your eyes
           listen
Release.


Isaiah 42:6-7

Sing for the glory of the living and the loving

sometimes i wish i could blog and write in a world where no one knows me, no one knows the people i know, and i could be just an anonymous storyteller, writing about the lovely, the challenging, the hurtful and the joys. But, doesn't that defeat the purpose of community and fellowship? of communicating to people who exist, as a person who exists and is known in community? I guess, in the end, im glad to communicate my thoughts with people who i may run into, or maybe live with, or call family... and i can talk things out over a cup of coffee. Maybe no one will bring it up, but i do appreciate your comments and thoughts on the things i wrestle with here in this space of words on a page somewhere in the tangled "Small world network"of the internet.

We live in such a crazy world! I am so thankful for the beauty, and so amazed at God's mercy, and yet my heart is heavy with the sorrows of so many - so many i know, and millions more stories i don't know. There are sorrows in life, and wounds that go deep, and its not all gonna get better. at least not now, not here, not in this age. But i think im beginning to let that burden go- to lift that off my shoulders and lay in at the cross. Today summer hit Boston and all the trees started blooming, and flowers are springing up everywhere. The commons was like a beach - everyone out in their bathing suits sun tanning on towels! The city was buzzing with warm happy people. Yet there was also tragedy. A friend is missing and last she was heard from she is being exploited by her "husband" pimping her out and beating her up. I know this lady well, and it hurts to think she has been dragged back into this life. (i think she is in her 40s? maybe late 30s?) also, a friend of my dad's was killed by thugs in Nairobi - someone he was looking forward to seeing when he was there. Her two boys are now orphaned. I think i remember her, when we lived in Boston back in 93, she was a classmate of my dad's.
A star has been silenced. her singing has stopped.
at least for now, here. where we can touch and hear her.

Lord have mercy! be with her sons, and her family, and community. Bring repentance and redemption to her murderers Lord! in your mercy, hear our prayer!

"...and all of the wickedness in the world that man might work or think is no more to the mercy of God than a live coal dropped in the sea."
W. Langland c. 1400 


I love this quote, on the wall in my friend's house i was staying at in CT. 
Really, only because of this do i have hope to keep pressing on. I have been called, i know this. But the exact acting out of this calling is still in the works, and i think will continue to be a journey step by step.
Im praying about going back to the middle east, and what doors may open there. Exciting! a bit intimidating to think of picking up and moving completely - maybe i'll just go for a few months? Im not sure.

I recently read "a wind in the door" and it was so very timely with things going on in my life. Naming, loving, being! not X-ing or annihilating anyone!

This painting i did last week was partly inspired by this quote:

"sing for the glory of the living and the loving, the flaming of creation, sing with us, dance with us, be with us, Be!" M. L'Engle

spare change

Thoughts flow, grand ideas i want to be sure i remember to write down pass through my mind, and then are gone. I've been learning a lot these days, and i wish to capture the lessons in words to remember and share, but the words don't seem to come when i sit to write them down.
well, here are a few short snap shots of life:

The importance of rest: im building rest into my schedule.  yep - scheduling to do nothing. I have had many wonderful people encourage me strongly to look at my days and weeks, and examine my times of rest. of refreshment, of health for mind and body. Athletes take care of their bodies. Is what im doing, as important as competing well in a tournament? Doesn't my mind, spirit and body then need care also? Yeah, i know its different, but its an example. I created a time map of my week and im working on building in rest, that will be held as important as any other meeting or activity. I do want to stay healthy, and able to run this race to the fullest. To press into all that God has for me to do, in His work of bringing hope to the hopeless, and light into the darkness. I need to take care of my voice if im going to be a voice for those whose voice has been silenced by oppression for the long term!

The beauty, challenge and relief of forgiveness and restoration of friendships.
 Conflict is never fun, and i would rather smooth things over and hope it all works out, then dig into the depths of conflict. But sometimes that is needed, to pull out roots of hurt and frustration that color the rest of the relationship. Sometimes it is impossible to do on your own, and i think always, it takes time and patience and radical abundant love beyond my strength.

The sun was shining brightly as i walked to a meeting in Beacon Hill. I was early, so i took my time, watching people criss cross across the city streets, and through the Public Garden. As I climbed up to cross the bridge, a man 'busking' said hello, then "hey, i remember you! from the summer! how've you been? where are you coming from?" I smiled and did sort of remember his face, so i said hello and that i was coming from the south end. He introduced me to the guy in running clothes leaning against the pillar of the bridge across from us, as his friend Teddy who is running from North Eastern. "oh dear, are they running after you?" we all laughed. The conversation quickly ended up around what i do for a living, and as I shared a bit about human trafficking my friend said "oh yeah, in my country organ trafficking is really bad!" Wow, i have hardly ever heard anyone who knows what organ trafficking is! I ask him where he is from, and he says Argentina. We talk for a while about the situation there, and he says there are underground hospitals that take out the organs and sell them on the black market. rich people buy them. We don't really know who puts them back into people? hmm. But the money is all connected to drugs of course. And People are just killed for their organs! He also shares how things are bad in China, and Vietnam, Cambodia, Eastern Europe and especially Russia. He has daughters, and if anything happened to them - "ah, i don't know what i'd do! I would find a gun. I wish i were a secret agent then. you know, Secret agents do go and find these people sometimes?"
"yes, i know- I work with some of them. And, if anything happened to your daughters, give me a call - i could try to get help for you - and Teddy will run after them!" we all laugh.
People are walking between us across the bridge this whole time. My argentinian busker is just holding his guitar, case open by his feet. He is thinking, his face serious.
Im going to have to go pretty soon. I give him a card with info about NFS. He says he has seen that on facebook! And, he gives me a fist bump "keep up the good work!" I tell him to do the same, and keep filing the streets with music. Its needed!
We say our good byes, and part ways. I never did learn his name. I hope i'll run into him again soon so i can ask.

As i cross the Garden i hear a familiar sound. A deep husky voice rhythmically sining "does aaanyone have any spare chaaange? Does Aaaanyone have any spare chaaaange?" as I walk closer I smile as i hear him add "does anyone have any long legs?" into the song. That is what he does. He sings his request for money, and adds bits about passers by, and the weather, and sports news, and also today i heard him sing an old Spiritual.
I walk up and smile " hello! its good to see you! do you remember me? from down on the commons, and my friend andrew?"
"Ohhh yeah, the really tall fellow?" and he puts his hands way up.
"yep, him. how are you?"
"oh yeah, i remember. doing alright. Does anyone have any spare chaaaange?"
"would you like some coffee?"
"does anyone have any spare chaaange? Does anyone... yeah, thanks! something cold. Aaaanyone have any spare chaaaange?"
"how bout an iced coffee? do you want milk in it?"
"yeah please and 4 or 5 splenda or equal. Thanks. Does anyone have any spare chaaaange?"
So, i go inside starbucks where i'll be meeting someone in a few minutes, and order an iced coffee. I put some whole milk, give it a stir, and grab 4 splenda and tear them all across the top at the same time (a trick i learned from my friend Tasha - she would always put at last 10!!) and then I grabbed an extra one in case he needed it. I think the lady sitting at the table was giving me a weird look. oh well.
I went back out and gave it to him. He stopped his sing-songy-song for a moment to say thanks. I asked him where he's been, since i hadn't seen him in a while. He said he's been around. He winks at me, as he says "Wherever I think there will be money" and ive been let in on his little secret.
I go sit on the steps a little ways down the street to wait for the person im meeting with, and after a few more requests for money i hear him start singing "If I help Somebody who has lost their way, then my livin' shall not be in vain. My livin' shall not be in vain..." 

Im thankful for George, and for my argentinian busking friend who wants to see an end to organ trafficking. And for so many other folks out on the streets struggling to get by, but have the time and space to put a smile on your face, to listen, to laugh, and to sing.

Later that day i picked up my housemate Levi from school and we ran and romped and explored our way through the garden, and along the esplanade. Leaves thrown, thornbushes attacking, skipping rocks and exploring under bridges. It was a beautiful day! and as we walked home we both agreed "the best adventures are the ones where you get all dirty"