Our darling little girl is soon entering her second month out and about.  She’s growing, changing, sleeping (some), eating (some), and being smothered with love by her brothers.

I never thought I’d be a mother, much less to a daughter.  There’s something different about parenting your own gender:  so much more baggage that can be brought into the situation.  But, as I’m finding out, so much redemption as well.

Not that I’m placing the responsibility on her of bringing about healing or changing in my life, but that she’s a means of experiencing God’s grace in my life.  Or not.  Depends on if I choose to act on the offer:  and sometimes being cranky or impatient seems so much more satisfying … for the moment.

On Sunday someone asked about her name:  “Your boys have such Biblical names, and she doesn’t.”  But oh:  she does.

Josephine Annabelle.  Not the name we thought about, honestly.  I had a list of names at the hospital, Jason had pretty much no ideas but knew he didn’t resonate with mine, so we scrapped most everything, I pleaded a quick prayer because I knew I needed to call my mom and Boo *had* to have a name at that point, and this is what happened.  Really, it’s not the name I would’ve chosen for her:  but it’s *her* name.  How do I know?  Like when I tried on a certain wedding dress some seven years ago and burst into tears because it was the one, I got all weepy when thinking of her name.  And we all know:  when the Spirit moves around Aj, Aj cries.  At least it’s a fairly accurate barometer.  And I can blame God when she’s seventeen and having to fill out all those bubbles on the SAT score card (you know they’ll still have the bubbles).

Josephine:  Biblical – like Joseph in the Bible.  Also after my father and an incredibly influential woman in my life and one of my favorite literary characters.

Annabelle:  My mother, Jason’s mother, Jason, and I all have a variation of “Ann” in our middle names.  My middle name is  a combination of my parents, and now so is their granddaughter.  Anna is a character in the Bible who means a great deal to me:  instead of becoming a bitter widow, she used her position to worship and glorify God, and she got to see Christ.  Jason’s sister and her sister-in-law (a good friend) have had daughters within the past year – EllaMae and Stella – so the “belle” part goes with that.

And her initials are a combination of her brothers – JJ & AA.

As a child I was raised to “pray in Jesus’ name”, but I didn’t know what that meant for quite some time.  “Name” in the Bible is equal with character:  it seems to embody all of what a person stands for, their history, their story.  I figure her brothers will come up with the perfect nickname because Josephine Annabelle is an awfully long name for such a little person.  But I hope that she will feel we have named her character well.

Standing in the back, I had to laugh a little.  Yes, it’s new which oftentimes means awkward.  Say you’re going on a date.  Most likely you’re not going to be singing along to that boy band song that comes on the radio, much less belting it out with the gusto you do with your college roommates (not that I speak from personal experience).    But still:  watching most women stand dead still, or doing the white evangelical woman’s shuffle while singing “We are dancing for the Lord is our Light” made me laugh as much as watching the exact same thing happen on Sunday mornings.

So yes:  I wasn’t fully focused on worship (totally outed myself there, eh?).  But the song stuck with me through the day, and I found myself dancing (as much as I can these days) while scrubbing the sink.

I also read Psalm 40 yesterday morning and realized I hadn’t loaded “War” or “October” onto my Ipod:  a mistake I remedied that afternoon.

Lord, thank you for giving us this new song:  may we learn how to dance in Your encompassing Light.

When the WBF Steering Team met to decide the topic for this fall study, I felt inclined to speak up about being in the words of Christ:  why study *about* when we can study *the* words of Christ?  My mama has been leading some inductive studies and mentioned one by Kay Arthur that could work.  Today our study was introduced thusly:  “Aj’s mom leads an inductive Bible study, and Aj brought these materials thinking they would be good for us to us this semester.”  Which in tired hormonal mama speak is interpreted as, “So if you hate this study, you’ll know who to blame.”    I know that wasn’t the speaker’s intention, but we’re leaving the Beth.Moore.Train which has been running consistently at some point each year (and probably will return in the spring – never fear).

People have very strong feelings about Beth, and likewise Kay.  I wish we could see the materials simply as a tool with which to connect with Christ rather than something to consume to meet our preferences.  Not all things will resonate with everyone, but I can’t imagine that if I enter with a right spirit that God won’t have *some* sort of Word for me – perhaps even to simply spend the time interceding for the other women.

~~~~~~

I was reading the story of Joseph and came to the point when Jacob was giving his blessing to his sons.  Instead of Joseph being blessed, Joseph’s kids were.  Kids that came from the wife given to him by Pharoah.  A wife that was the daughter of the Egyptian high priest (I think).  I believe ancestry “stuff” runs through the mamas in the Hebrew culture, meaning Joseph’s kids weren’t Hebrew.  But perhaps by Jacob blessing them, he was in a sense adopting them.  Similar to Ruth and Naomi:  Ruth and Boaz’s first born son was known as Naomi’s.  I always thought that was just to appease a sad, strong-willed, widowed mother-in-law.  But since he’s in the line of Christ, he’d need to be “Hebrew” which he would be in Naomi was his “mom”.  Interesting ….

~~~~~~

On Sunday I plan on helping my friend talk with high schoolers about immigration issues.  I think the high schoolers will know much more than I ….

We gathered at Yearly Meeting in July.  The heat “encouraged” me to take advantage of the full range of opportunities:  workshops, board meetings, evening gatherings, evening celebration times.  Two words:  air-conditioned childcare.  Really, I did it “for the kids.”    But as I saw the eldest forging some bonds, making friends, loving to go play in the sprinkler and watch Larry-Boy and run amuck with wild abandon, I felt less guilty about dumping him off, filling myself up with connections with adults and quiet time to prep for upcoming events, and recognizing:  Hey, I liked YM for those same reasons!  And now he gets to have those memories as well!  The toddler would be less rosy about his experience, but next year when he moves to the “children who don’t wear diapers” room, I think it’ll all be good.

Following Yearly Meeting came our worship gathering’s Vacation Bible School.  Which I wasn’t sure about the eldest’s participation.  But again:  I saw the crafts, the running around, the morning cheer of “Yay!  VBS!”, and I knew why it was a good thing for him to be there.  Actually, VBS is where I first had an opportunity to “make a decision for Christ” – not that I didn’t make repeated decisions at later opportunities, but still.  And somehow it became oddly important to me that Judah have such experiences.  Finally, parental inclinations might be manifesting …

The next week the kids were shipped up (lovingly, of course) to the grand’rents while Jason and I went to join about 350 other crazy people at the coast for Surfside, our high school camp.  I facilitated a tract for the high school grads focusing on life transitions and our identity in Christ.  It was GREAT:  high schoolers are amazing people.  From kids voicing fears that they will only have dead-end jobs and therefore a dead-end life, to others talking about wanting to leave their faith gatherings all their lives until the community had a split and now wanting to walk through that pain and grief with them – wow.  The larger camp met corporately under a tent in a meadow.  Then it rained.  Then it heated up:  swamp thing!  Meals were served in the dining hall and neighboring meeting room.  Through it all (even my 1am bedtimes and 6am wake-up times) people loved on each other and loved on God and were loved on by God.  God.Is.Good.

After that, I felt like summer could start.  Except now it’s mostly prep for the fall.  Which is good and enh, all at the same time.  Fall is the hardest transition for me:  grey skies are coming, plants are dying, hibernation is on the way.  How not to repeat patterns that weren’t the best from past years?  How to live in the life and light that I feel in the summer without getting discouraged in the daily mundane?  How to re-enter into a more scheduled community life … or enter in at all? …

God is present in every season, ready to speak life and light and healing.  I’m not called to live in the summer season all the time:  I’m called to live a day at a time, with each one being a gift (although some days feel like they were gifts picked out of the dollar bins at Target).    Summer:  thank you for your light.  Fall:  soon we shall meet – please be kind (rewind).

We came home.  Jason’s parents came to town:  talking, family showers, missional gatherings, good food.

Northwest Yearly Meeting came, along with Wretched Heat which “encouraged” us to participate in YM moreso than usual:  hmmm, sit at home with no a/c and the stir-crazy boys, or deposit boys in programmed childcare and enjoy the conversations and stories of adults in an air conditioned environment?  The answer was clear.  I even managed the inter-generational ice cream social with two boys up past their bedtimes without the aid of the husband who was serving his time on the softball field (in 90+ temps – we’ll just call it “dedication”).

Then:  off to the beach to enjoy time with Jason’s family before dispersal back to our corners of the world.  Tomorrow:  VBS.  Next week:  Grad Camp.

That’s a lot of together.

In the midst of that activity, I still find my mind clinging to the thoughts and ponderings and rubix cube cunundrum that my brain is processing of “how do we do Life Together?”  I know Bonhoeffer is known for writing his timeless Christian classics, but this book seriously shifted some paradigms in my noggin, and I’m not sure what to do with it.  Questions of rhythms of life with a family, emptying oneself, confession – individual and corporate, the compounding elements of ministry (interesting:  Bonhoeffer says one must master certain ministries – holding ones tongue, meekness, etc. – before engaging in the ministry of delivering a word; otherwise, it will be too tainted by our desires for outcomes of this Word rather than being empty enough to be a vessel of Truth).

I really want to just sit with this stuff; but I can’t.  And I probably shouldn’t:  it’s best “field-tested”.  If only I can shove the grocery lists out of the foreground of my mind …. or maybe I should see if I missed that ministry of managing consumption chapter. 

Mike’s take on youth ministry (and ministry in general) has had a *significant* shift over the years.  Currently he worships at Jacob’s Well where he says they have a youth ministry, but not a youth group per se.  The youth are very much a part of the congregation, not segregated to the youth room.  Some people work more with the youth, but it sounds like the congregation is more integrated through mentoring, walking alongside a specific youth for a time.  And the youth walk alongside the adults as the gathering worships together and shares the light of Christ in their daily lives and neighborhoods.

In my history of being part of faith communities I realized that those who are “group”-oriented seem more clubish, more “come in, be one of us”, more fractured, more self-interested.  Those that were “ministry”-0riented thought of the bigger picture, had more awareness of the each other, practiced more over-arching hospitality.  And in my faith gathering we have many ministries, but not a lot of groups … but the places where there are groups, we seem to have more lack of communication and conflict with each other …

My boys are part of the childrens’ *ministry*, but once they become teens, they’ll be part of a youth *group*.  This is not to say that youth leaders are not needed, but when one is known as The Youth Pastor, one seems to shoulder all the responsibility of those in that age group.  I’m sure different pastors would say different things regarding other being involved, but my observation has been “I’ll volunteer with the kids, but once they’re teens, they’ll go off their merry way:  it’s what they want, after all, because we aren’t communicating well, and I’d love a break.”

I wonder where other “group” mentalities take place:  perhaps with seniors?  “Well, this way they can sing songs they like and talk about things important to them:  they’re happier off over there in their Group.”  Perhaps recovery programs?  “Oh, they wouldn’t want to talk to me:  I don’t understand their experience, and I’d probably say something stupid anyway.”  Ethnic groups?  Etc …

I love being part of the women’s ministry at NFC, but if I knew if was a “group”, honestly I’d pack up my knitting needles and head elsewhere:  I refuse to be segregated.  Integration would be wonderful, but methinks that requires some humbleness and vulnerability and risk of rejection and practice of hospitality:  not necessarily easily-taken postures, but oh so worth it.

I’ve never been a big fan of Paul.  Yes, I’m stepping aside before the heavenly lightning bolt strikes.  He’s just so … wordy.  I know I’m wordy as well, but at least I throw in a bit of self-depricating humor here and there, and somehow his “I’m the King of All Sinners” just doesn’t strike my funny bone.  But reading about a) the history of the early church, 2) the history of Paul interacting with the early church, iii) seeing the typical process of things fall into place (everyone on board, times get tough, people start to doubt, people are persecuted, people start to doubt, heretics infiltrate trying to take power, people start to doubt), it just makes so much more sense.

Some of his writing is proactive:  urging readers on to the end goal.  And some of his writing is reactive:  correcting muck that’s around.  But when I didn’t know about the muck, I thought Paul was just being really micromanaging, perfectionistic, and judgmental (and wordy).  When I “walked” with Paul, through not being liked by many early Christians, through being in jail for no real good reason, through being shipwrecked with people who probably were a little on the “savory” side, through house arrest, through seeing the people he worked with and loved go through tough times (sometimes self-inflicted), it just made so much more sense.  And the words carried so much more meaning.

Not so much with Revelation, though.  John’s coming off a bit manic:  boy, he loves, and boy, he pours on the doom.  And redemption, I’m sure, but he certainly is Image-Full.

I love the idea of a farmers’ market.  A neighboring town has a much bigger, more diverse, well put together market that gathers on Thursday afternoons – you know, right in the middle of naptime.  The only time I’ve attended was twoish years ago when I had a toddler and an infant who refused to nap, and I refused to stay in the hot house with them.  It was a lovely experience:  great, fresh produce; whole grain, locally made breads; meats and cheeses – I came home with a quality dinner.  Plus everyone oohed and ahhed over my smallest tyke, reminding me that it might not have been a mistake to choose to procreate again.

Yesterday I read an article about a farmers’ market that was located in the poorer section of a large city (can’t find the link this morning:  here’s one similar).  For the most part these markets are in nicer areas of populations, places where folks live who already have access to fresh produce (maybe not local, but still).  This market also spent time and money being able to accept electronic benefits transfer for those on food stamp programs:  it’s costly, but this was something important to them.

How cool would it be to have that in my town?  Right now the markets seem to be such a novelty, something to stop at on the way home from the beach or from wine tasting.  What if the ginormous empty field in the middle of the southside of our neighboring town had a quality farmers’ market with quality produce?  It may not draw in the passers-by, it may not be as easy to get to, but what if it helped the economically-diverse populations mix?  We live in an area with easy access to quality agriculture as well as a technology-proficient area.  Oh, to dream dreams …

Oh, how I love Rattle and Hum Bono.  Fling my hair Bono.  Strut around like the proud Irishman that I am Bono.  Not care that my pants are almost up to my mid-chest Bono.  Take everything so seriously and piously Bono.

I wonder how he looks back on himself.  I rarely let photos be taken, and especially never video, because I just cringe.  Really?  I wanted to wear that?  I said that?  I acted that pompously?  I was that self-assured?

I rarely reread my journals, and I often even wonder about obliterating my blogs someday just because:  oy, it’s just so much.

Right now I’m facilitating my Sunday School class.  They didn’t have a specific topic in mind, so I picked something that’s been on my radar as of late:  how is the church called to respond in these economic times?  But it’s intimidating because it’s a) my sort-of peers (some used to be youth leaders of mine, some are my parents’ friends) and 2) I am a humanities major who often runs from things involving “finance” and “economic” and “projected” or just “numbers”.  I have no answers to this topic, but “like a splinter in my mind, driving me mad”, I can’t ignore it.

So I started reading, because that’s what I do.  I read a How to Budget/Finance Christian-style book.  Then I read Ron Sider’s “Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger” followed by Arthur Simon (founder of Bread for the World)’s “How Much Is Enough?“  Apparently that was enough, and yet not enough.

My first sharing on Sunday went …. enh.  I was just really scattered.  Even if I can find time to pull my thoughts together, my brain doesn’t focus lately.  And there’s just so much to share.  And how to share my journey in a way that’s an invitation for others to explore their own journeys through crises and what helped, rather than a “we should…” or “we shouldn’t” nagging/OT prophetic kind of presentation.  I have an idea of where I want people to go … but is that where God wants them to go?  How to let go of that control stick ….

Then during Sunday morning worship we were reflecting on our time in James.  You know, James, where there’s this doozy of a passage.  Also after finding out that a sort of church plant, right across the street, that we thought wanted “independence”, is in need of help.  And the typical thoughts are, “Oh, well, they must need financial help in this time, because they don’t make much:  giving must be down.”  It’s true:  their congregation is made up of folks who struggle for most of the income they make.  And yet their giving is *UP*.  2 Corinthians 8 was SCREAMING in my head.  And yet I didn’t know if I should share that in Open Worship.  Why?

Because I might look pompous.  I might come across as idealistic and passionate.  I might look like Bono Bulleting the Blue Sky.  I might look like a boob, but such a self-righteous boob.

So I cop out:  I come home, mull it over, and throw it up on my blog where maybe it won’t come across so intensely, or at least be heard by so many people.

But sometimes I wonder if this intensity that’s in me is really going to drive me mad.  Maybe a good rock-out to the neighbor’s drums is truly a God-ordained thing, or a quick YouTube education for the younger tykes in the house on Uncles Bono, Edge, Adam, and Larry in their classic years:  ‘well, the God I believe in isn’t short of cash, mister.’ (screaming fans).

……………….

My son came home from a church event saying he didn’t like his friends, that they were bad.  And so he hit them.  The messiness of establishing community, appropriate actions and reactions, and stating the truth of feelings being experienced (logical or not) is hard.  The path of least resistence, of the moment, would state, “Just don’t put him in settings like that anymore.”  Avoidance doesn’t truly help:  it simply numbs out the issue for the moment.  It’s hard for me not to take on the labels others might bestow on your kid:  hitter, out of control, whiner, weak, shrieker.  I’m glad I’m not a label to God, and that through my kids, God’s peeling those labels off of my Self.  I pray I can be a part of peeling those labels off of my kids, just like they’re so fond of doing to the produce in the store (though the store may not be so fond of that practice).

……………….

Last night at our church group we talked about the concept of The Embrace (via Miroslav Volf):  he was referencing embracing the enemy, but the group facilitator was talking about the concept of embrace in marriage (which, yes, there were comments about if they were truly all that different ).  Four steps:  open up, wait, embrace, release.  We also talked some about our spiritual personalities, looking at results from an inventory.  It was mentioned that these can change depending on the phase of life we’re in, which is good, because my strengths are all about being alone, and my “areas for growth” are about caretaking, i.e. the complete opposite of my day-to-day life.  I felt a bit better in regards to comparing myself to women who seem to take to motherhood so naturally:  perhaps they’re more natural caretakers.  I told Jason that if I could sense God strongly there, I’d caretake till I fell over.  But I sense God in times alone, in my head, in simplicity and rhythm.  Yes, opportunities for growth, but it’s hard to initiate embrace in a place of weakness … or perhaps that’s where the Most True embrace occurs …

……………..

This morning Judah and I read The  Jesus Storybook Bible, a recent gift from the Gran.  Friends had highly recommended it, saying it didn’t gloss over Bible stories or dumb them down, but spoke truth in simple, poetic ways.  I had prayed for some opportunities to talk to Judah about “theological” stuff, the stories of God beyond details, making it more formational than informational.  After reading a few chapters, Judah told me that God is bad because He lets us sin.  He then told me God kills bad guys, that God doesn’t like him, and wondered if we can buy fruit at the store like on the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.  Perhaps teaching theology and story isn’t my strong suit, that, or I’m sending him to seminary to confubulate the professors there – at least they get paid for such questions and teachings. 

……………

This morning I was reading Fruit of the Vine, and the writer mentioned something along the lines of the committment to be in relationship with others is not contingent on being conflict-free, but of committment to resolve the conflict.  A timely reminder.