i am pregnant.

A friend of mine mentioned the other day that I had stopped blogging... I'd kind of forgotten about my blog with all the sudden changes, but I made a decision that I will faithfully blog each week. Today's entry will be particularly long, as I need to catch up with my lack of communication.

Quiet: My confessions

A while back I was reading a book about Cambodia and the torture that many Cambodians faced in the years of the Khemer Rouge. A story in that book that particularly struck me was about a buddhist monk. During the time of the Khemer Rouge many men and women were killed if they were educated, if they were monks and if they were related to anyone that was affluent in education or resources. So the survival of this female monk is a miracle. Many Cambodians found that their only hope of survival was to lie about their background. She, on the other hand, felt that her only refuge was to keep her faith. She continued to dress in monk attire, practice meditation and be honest about who she was. Of course, there is a story as to how she came to be a monk... but what is most striking about her story is that she was unwilling to trade her spiritual survival for physical survival. In all the chaos, in all the tragedy, in all the insanity of her time she survived by clinging to her passion.

As I reflect on this story, I can't remember a time in my life where I have ever had to cling to my faith for survival. I can't remember a time where it is my faith that I had to rely on in order to survive. Each day is a choice: I believe or I don't believe. So often that process is done on my whim. And in my contemplation I realize that a central theme of her story that is lacking in mine is quiet. Both the need for it and the search for it. When I was in seminary I participated in a class on spirituality. One of our assignments was to spend a day (as a class) at a monastary and there was no speaking allowed. It was entitled, 'A day of silence'. I found that the first two hours I was cool. I journaled. I read. I journaled some more. I wrote poetry. And then I couldn't handle it anymore. My class mates were sitting in different areas and the temptation would rise in me to start up a conversation. So I would move to a more isolated area of the monastary and what I found was that I could quiet myself physically, but I could not quiet myself spiritually, emotionally or mentally. I literally felt my life screaming. This remains true today. And i've realized that it is in the quiet where I must rely on God the most. There is no place to hide in the quiet. There is no place to go in the quiet. There is nothing to do in the quiet. There is only me and him.

Most might say, 'Who cares. Why worry yourself over this kind of ineptness?'. But I think why it disturbes me the most is because I know that in the chaos of my life I've created a sort of self-reliance. You see, I know I can do just about anything I put my mind to. When I was an undergrad I decided well I'm not just going to get a Bachelor of Arts... I'll get a Bachelor of Science. I won't stop there I'll get myself a Masters. Oh and while getting a Masters I can work 50 hours a week managing a cafe. I'll change lives and get a job at Friends of Youth and counsel pregnant young women. I can direct a community center... And the list never ends. My conviction is that I've found a sense of pride in my ability to take on any feat. I've found a comfort in my ability to tackle any goal that I set for myself. I've found a sense of independence in my not needing God, because I have my own strength to rely on.

So now some might say, 'What's the big deal? Hard work is the American way'. But I know I am convicted. When I reflect on this I see that there was a place inside of me where I said, 'I will never have to rely on anyone else. I will prove to everyone that I am competant and able'. At the core of my soul is the acclamation that 'I will never again be humiliated and not only will I never be humiliated-- I will prove that I am worthy of goodness'. And 'anyone and everyone' was inclusive of God. My reliability on 'self' is my exclusion of God.

So why now? Why ponder these questions now? My strategy has seemed to work. I guess it is because I've found I can't continue at this pace. But most of all, I've found that I don't want to live in isolation. My fight with silence is my fight with God. I am struggling to keep him at arms length for fear he may really see what I've been desperately trying to keep from everyone: That I am weak. I am in need of grace. In my pride, I don't need a Savior. In my pride, I can save myself. Yet, he calls me to be quiet. For it is there where he longs to find me. It is there where he wants to find us all. It is there where he can reach us, speak to us and commune with us.

Yesterday in church we read Psalm 62... In the end the psalmist says, 'One thing has been said. Two things I have heard. One that God is strong and two that the Lord is loving (DeAnza's translation)'. There it is... Hope. So when will I rest in God's strength? When will I allow him to love me?

Transitions

Two weeks ago I found out that I was pregnant. I never realized how quickly and drastically life changes until I saw those two little lines appear on my EPT test. My life feels like it has been turned on its head. My choices no longer just effect me-- they effect a small baby inside of me, too. The irony of this change of events is that Frank and I had discussed the possibility of NEVER having children just weeks prior to this surprise. Yet, life turns and here I am-- pregnant.

For weeks I have been so scared with my 'new' reality. I am going to be a mother. I am going to be responsible for someone other than myself. After this discovery the first few days I tossed and turned at night and then I realized that I was afraid of making all the mistakes I fear to make-- the mistakes that i've been pointing out in my own parents for years. All my complaints, all my whinings could be echoed by this little one about me... How selfish-- how immature to think about my pride when there is someone who will need my care... And I've realized that I must become less.

My prayer is that in these next seven months that God would prepare my heart to be more than I dreamed. I pray that I will seek wisdom in each decision that I make. I pray that I would have grace and also allow myself room to fail-- always ready to repent.

I've been so busy lately I haven't been able to blog. This week has been a strange week. Many exciting and painful events have happened this week in the lives of those in my community. I'm not sure how to process each... I guess I should start by saying, "I'm overwhelmed". And I am learning to stay 'present' to do both: to weep with those who mourn and to rejoice with those who rejoice. Finding balance between both.

I am overwhelmed with God's faithfulness, in light of our waivering trust in Him. This week has been a restless week for me... i've been tossing and turning with so much joy and so much grief... I've grieved lives leaving and rejoiced in new lives beginning and in each I've felt a deep sense of God's presence. This reassures me that God is good... to make himself alive in all circumstances. I'm reminded that I must keep my eyes open-- ready for each new surprise. I must keep moving forward in anticipation that God's strength and comfort will envelop me.

I love Isaiah. The theme of Isaiah is: to remember. (Isaiah 46:8-11)

"Remember this, fix it in mind,
take it to heart, you rebels.
Remember the former things, those of long ago;
I am God, and there is no other;
I am God, and there is none like me.
I make known the end from the beginning,
from ancient times, what is still to come.
I say: My purpose will stand,
and I will do all that I please.

We must remember the past in order to rejoice in God's presence. Remember the past in order to be reminded of where God has brought us from. I am in awe. I pray to remember... that I may be humbled.

Can we ever know God's goodness? Or do we just have to have faith and believe that He is good?

This has been an ongoing conversation in my C group for months. It seems that we all are in different areas as we dialogue about God's goodness. And it has been a place where I have wrestled time and time again. But when it comes down to it... I'm tired. My wrestling is my unwillingness to surrender to God's grace. You see, I've come to a place where I just have to have faith that God is good... That he is just... That he is sovereign. Once I surrender in faith I realize that the evidence of God's goodness is evident in my life: The hope of my salvation. Could I even be blogging about this matter if he wasn't good? Could I even contemplate his goodness if he didn't make himself present in my life?

But that doesn't mean that I blindly just say, 'God is Good'. Because let's face it suffering exists... In light of suffering, we question where God's goodness exists? So i've been contemplating the weight sin has on suffering. Talking with a friend about this, she said that God's goodness is not something we can comprehend. In fact many mystics, only refer to what God is not, as opposed to what God is. Which raised the question: if we say what God is not 'something' aren't we also saying the opposite: what he is. For example, if we say God is not merciful... aren't we in turn saying God is merciful?

As brought up in C group, God made us with free will... is this part of his goodness? I am glad to be able to make choices, but as a result do I not have responsibilty for the sin I choose and if I choose sin why does that negate God's goodness in my mind? Shouldn't that only underline my weakness? Which brings up the question: Why do innocent people face immense suffering? And this brings me to the idea of residual sin or generational sin. In I Kings Solomon commited many sins: had multiple wives outside of his race, attempted murder, worshiped idols and the list continues. But the consequences of his sin are paid by his sons. God says, "I will not take the whole kingdom our of Solomon's hand... I will take the kingdom out of his son's hands..." My point is that even if we choose not to sin (see post 6/8/2003), as we do have the ability to choose never to sin... we will always face the consequences of sin because of the falleness of our world and due to past sins of our fore fathers and mothers.

In the end, I realize that I must believe in God's goodness and be ready to see the evidence of His goodness daily. I am so blessed as I see him reveal himself to me through my husband's comforting arms, the women who pray for me, my friend who inspires me to seek wisdom, my community, my pastor who is always raising the bar for me to become more... In this, I can not deny his goodness. And sometimes my resistence is in realizing his goodness is too good for my disdained soul. I must receive his grace so that in His strength I can in turn give it.

Last night I watched a documentary on Cambodia. The film documented the turmoil that Cambodia has faced, particularly in the 70's. The story was told by a man, a flute player who was about 12 when the Khemer Rouge took over and seperated him from his family. He gives an account of the horror that this people faced. Two million people were killed over a course of four years when the Khemer Rouge took over. People were seperated from their families, made to work from 4 am to 12 am every day. People starved to death. Some were tortured. While others were murdered. This man, this flute player went back to Cambodia to try to revive the culture and arts of his people through music. And the pain that he went through is unimaginable. His work is to inspire others to leave a legacy behind-- to be remembered for their culture rather than their killing fields.

Which brings me to this place: I am ashamed that I am so self-absorbed. I am ashamed that I see my struggle as suffering in light of others starving and dying in other parts of the world. I'm ashamed that I take for granted my 'priveledge'... my 'blessing' by not recognizing it... I think that I know pain...

I pray that my heart will be changed to be compassionate... to fight for justice... to love the broken... to feed the poor... to be humbled.

I spoke with a friend about the previous post about desire and isolation and she brought up a good thought about having a harder time staying engaged in relationship when the 'other' shows her goodness. Thus, bringing me to this post: the paradox of dignity and depravity.

In C group someone said that he would prefer to earn his salvation rather than it be a gift through grace. Why is grace and unconditional love so hard for us to receive? As Christians our whole theology is based on grace, and yet we are so unwilling to receive. I say 'unwilling' because I really think that it is a way for us to maintain 'control' of our existence. If we can control-- we don't need to die to ourselves. Which I think is the greatest sin... not dieing to self and staying in control. Our depravity is that we want to do 'this' apart from God. And the pull between his dignity and our sin maintains our constant chaos. We want forgiveness... we don't want grace... we want salvation... we want to earn it... we want we want we want-- I want! And the cycle continues... In C group our leader talked about coming to a place where we can choose not to sin... and the only way that we can choose not to sin is to die to self and rely on Christ.

Relationship is key to this dynamic. As relationship provides us with a mirror of ourselves. We are subjective beings. In relationship the 'other' shows us how we sin and fail both directly and indirectly. Frank and I have struggled in our marriage. I used to think that if I did this, this and this we would have a perfect marriage-- free of struggle and pain. Then I realized that Frank is the one I struggle with most-- the one I feel the most pain with because it is relationship with him where I live out my depravity. You see, I do this in all relationships but with Frank I can't hide. Relationship is humbling... it mirrors our weakness...

I experienced some pain in the context of a group that I go to. I felt unseen, unheard, unexperienced and uncared for... my instinct is to hide... run... flee... (fight or flight) so I left and on my drive home as I was crying out I realized that God has called me to relationship regardless if people see me, hear me, care for me, etc. I realized that Jesus experienced this relational element of pain. In the garden of Gethsethme those that claimed to love him fell asleep... His last night on this earth... they fell asleep on him. Christ just handled his pain much better than I ever do-- giving himself over and dying on a cross. I handle it by retaliating and making others pay. I realized it's time to grow up, humble myself and stay in relationship. And when grace is too good for me to recieve (in my perception) I must recognize that in faith I must believe that there's not a damn thing I can do to earn it. I must surrender myself to the goodness of God that I may become less and He become more.