Aj Schwanz

My son came downstairs this evening, dressed in his Christmas pajamas, showing me his new magnetic calendar.  It has labels for each month, for days, and icons for special events.  For example, he has a school bus put on Tuesday, the day he’s supposed to return to school from his summer-length winter vacation.  Today is noted with a snowflake.  Because it snowed.  Again.  We just returned home and have only seen the grass in our backyard for about an hour over three-ish weeks:  oy.  Another day further on in the month is decorated with balloons and cake and such, but we won’t go into detail about that.

One of the magnets has two hearts, I suppose, for that Sainted Mister Valentine (or my mama’s birthday, or my nana’s birthday, as it happens to all collide into one terrific 24 hour period).  Judah looked at me and stated very matter-of-factly:  “God makes hearts.”  “Yes, son, yes God does.”  “My heart is in my stomach.  My heart and my stomach are right here.  God made them.”  “Oh . . . ?”

Later, as I was FB chatting with a lovely friend, Judah interrupted me to look at his “broken” tooth, a fairly nightly ritual that neither I nor his father have comprehended.  Finally tonight we came to a realization that he believes his molars are broken, because they are not pointy like the rest of his teeth.  I tried to explain that God designed teeth with different shapes so as to serve different functions.  “So some bite off or rip off food, and others grind the food so we can swallow it.”  “Yeah, with the broken teeth.  I broke my tooth when I was Abel’s age.  But God, when I break my teeth, God will make me new ones.”  If only it were that easy, says the girl with a crown (though I love my crown:  it’s a solid tooth.  Now, the chipped tooth next to it is another matter . . . ).

This weekend I got to hear some funny adult interpretations of events and chronology.  My mom wondered about scanning all the slides Dad took of their time in Germany as newlyweds working on the Air Force base.  We came across an envelope of pictures of my dad’s parents that I have *NEVER* seen:  pictures of my papa beeming with his sons, pictures of my nana with her mom and mother-in-law, pictures of my nana in little short-shorts and then (gasp) a two piece, pictures of my grandparents out on the town with (another gasp) bottles and glasses with alcoholic beverages in them.  See, I grew up in an alcohol-free household mostly due to the fact that alcoholism runs in my family.  But, as a small child growing up in Evangelical Southern Idaho, I began to assume that only “not good” houses drank and “good” houses didn’t.  My parents never said that, but just as Judah somehow *knows* his heart is in his stomach and *knows* that his tooth is broken, I *knew* that alcohol was a sign of moral failure.  My head has changed its views since then, but sometimes I wonder if my heart knows that.  I also wonder what else my head and heart think they know for certain . ..

I also got to hear some funny interpretations of historic events as my parents tried to convince each other that they remembered events more accurately than the other.  And as both my head and heart are in agreement, I knew just to keep.my.broken.toothed.mouth.shut.

I’ve rarely made New Year’s resolutions:  it seems like a giant way to set myself up for failure.  “Hello, self esteem, another way that you didn’t measure up”.

Or so said my former self until I had the realization:  I don’t have to make a bunch of resolutions:  I could just do one.  And there are no NYr rules (that I know of:  if there are, I don’t want to know:  keep that door firmly shut:  la la la, I can’t hear you) that state I have to do a BIG resolution.  It could be small.  Insignificant.

So I started flossing.  Yes, that was a NYr:  and I actually followed through.

The next year it was drinking enough water.  And as you can ask my husband, who trips over water bottles (reusable, BPA-free) scattered throughout the house and the car, I tend to keep decently hydrated.

When I lived in Boise, I decided my NYr would be to read my Bible in one year following the handy dandy guides in the back.  It was a Bible I got “free” while attending YouthQuake (you know, the “free” stuff that comes with a hefty conference fee).  It was an amazing experience.  Boise was a ‘desert’ time for me, a time where God met me (kicking and screaming, or rather twitching due to my unknown blood sugar issues) to spend some quality one-on-one time together through God’s Word.  It hurt, but it hurt so good.

A few years later when I started doing “things to help keep depression a pacified, happy camper” coping mechanisms, one of the suggestions was to read a Proverb every day because it stimulates the frontal lobe, and when the frontal lobe is happy, everyone is happy.  I got bored after a while (there’s only so many Proverbs, and only so many times I like to read about how it’s better to sleep on a roof in the rain than in a house with a cranky woman), so now I read some part of the Bible at breakfast time, whatever interests me.  I just finished reading the Narrated Bible version of the Gospels (which you, as some of my pastors who I won’t directly name but might reference later on, might think is a verbal version of the Bible, but really it’s just chronological).  Now I’m moving onto Judges, because my dad believes (after much study, and of course, a little Godly insight) that we’re in a time period similar to that of Judges (I’ll go into that someday later), so I figure it might be good to familiarize myself with the patterns of that book.

My friend/fellow blogger/pastor/fellow Newberg-Boise-Newberg mover Gregg posted about reading the Bible in a year.  He’s opting to subscribe to an RSS feed through Google Reader.  Sweet:  I’m glad that works for him!  I, however, am a skimmer, and would read simply for consumption rather than transformation.  Must get all feeds read!  What’s that about edification?

What’s been helpful for me is to subscribe to a podcast called The Daily Audio Bible.   The host reads through the Bible in a year - Old Testament, New Testament, Psalms, Proverbs selections each day.  He closes with prayer, thoughts, and prayer requests from the DAB community (which I rarely listen to, but am glad there’s space for such a thing).  I also listen to PrayStation Portable (interesting, not having grown up in a liturgical setting) as well as Pray As You Go.  In the morning I listen as I get up, get ready, and open up the house (feeding all the creatures - two and four-legged, blinds, mental list for the day, etc.).

So there’s my liturgy of sorts.  A little different than monks and nuns probably intended, but would you expect any different from Quaker Sister Mary Aj?

Interesting thoughts on the day of remembrance of Christ’s dedication.

We have much to be judged on when he comes, slums and battlefields and insane asylums, but these are the symptoms of our illness, and the result of our failures in love.  In the evening of life we shall be judged on love, and not one of us is going to come off vey well, and were it not for my absolute faith in the loving forgiveness of my Lord I could not call on him to come.

But his love is greater than all our hate, and he w ill not rest until Judas has turned to him, until Satan has turned to him, until the dark has turned to him; until we cal all, all of us without exception, freely return his look of love in our own eyes and hearts.  And then, healed, whole, complete but not finished, we will know the joy of being co-creators with the one to whom we call.

Amen.  Even so, come Lord Jesus.

~Madeleine L’Engle, Glimpses of Grace 334-335

It’s the holidays, and my reading has consisted of things like Siblings Without Rivalry, Knitting for Peace, Cricket at the Manger (check out the stellar illustrations!), Hotel Dusk:  Room 215 (okay, so that’s not a book, but the game has enough words to make up a novel!) and The Genesis Trilogy.   Ecclectic, yes?  But then again, that seems to be the theme of the holidays (as we were going to Jason’s family’s friend’s house and Judah asked if we were going to spend the night there, and if not there, then where were we spending the night that night.  It might be a bit telling of our nomadic nature as of late).

Today I came across a review of a book that sounds like it’d spur some stellar discussion.  The book store is Hearts & Minds (HT Christine Sine), and the book is Peace to War.  I’m particularly interested since I just wrote a piece reflecting on our Yearly Meeting’s Query 10:  what will I say to my sons about war?  How do I live a lifestyle that is reflective and teaching about the way of peace?  How do I not?

The reviewer asked a question that peaked my interest:

Will the Mennonites, Brethren in Christ, evangelical Friends or other such groups lose their bearings as nonviolence is divorced from a full-orbed Biblical worldview? . . . As one reviewer on the back put it (from a Church of God seminary) “Here is a profoundly disturbing read for anyone concerned about faith formation across generations…the implications of this study are worth examining by all traditions asking ‘Will our children have faith?’”

Interesting thoughts as we move into a New Year (which I recently read isn’t so much celebrating a new year as much as marking the day that Christ was taken to the priests for circumcision.  Puts a new spin on the merrymaking, eh?).

“Attend to the injured party instead.” (119-120).

I’m still reading Faber and Mazlish, but now I’ve moved onto “Siblings Without Rivalry.”  And again, I find concepts that extend far beyond the child realm into How To Deal In A Loving And Kind Fashion With Humanity, Stupid.  Well, the Stupid is just for me because seriously, why haven’t I thought of these things before?

I’m becoming familiar with a lot of situations that are fairly unjust in the church.  As with families, why do I save up my most cranky and unbecoming behavior for my church family? And yet, that’s what seems to happen.  Without intentionality, I find myself creating or participating in unhealthy behavior, often without a thought:  it’s just the way it’s always been!

I skimmed the book UnChristian talking about the ways folks outside of the church view the church:  it’s not pretty.  I’ve read I Like Jesus But Not the Church:  more of the same.  I’ve functioned in traditional church circles and emerging/post-modern community/conversation circles.  What I’ve noticed is that everyone wants the same thing:  attention.  But how folks go about getting that attention differs.

One of my spiritual advisor friends gave me a picture of relationship dynamics as an inverted triangle with the bottom point being the Victim, a top point being labeled Defender, and the other top point being labeled Aggressor.  Those roles can be really unhealthy, and they’re easy to fall into.  Instead, she flipped the triangle over, labeled the top God, and the other two points People, pointing out that it’s so much better to be drawn equally to God, and then we’re drawn towards each other.  

Lately as I’ve seen the whole “Christendom” culture eroding and the “post-modern” mindset emerging, I’ve sensed that folks in the church feel threatened.  New means change; change is perceived as loss; loss means discomfort; discomfort means acting out.  When one sibling bonks another, they might do it out of frustration, or they might do it to get attention from the adult because they’re feeling some sort of loss.  And what typically happens?  I find myself running in and chastising the “abuser”:  ”Don’t do that!  You know better.”  Which he does:  because he’s getting what he wants.   

Instead, if I pay attention to the “victim” - don’t treat him as a victim, but simply state what happened:  ”Wow, your brother didn’t use his words like we’re supposed to in this house.  I see a bonk on your noggin.  Let’s take care of that”, both seem to calm down, and words get used more frequently that flinging lego blocks.  The “abuser” doesn’t get what he wants; the “victim” isn’t coddled or talked down to; the “rescuer” isn’t rescuing but rather noticing, stating, speaking to a better way.

“I had decided that my oldest son was a born bully, and my youngest boy was innately sweet and gentle.  And every day there was fresh evidence that I was right, because every day David seemed meaner and meaner, and every day Andy seemed more vulnerable, more pathetic, more in need of my protection.

The turning point came when the boys were about ten and seven.  I was in a session with Dr. Ginott and heard him say something about treating our children, not as they are, but as we hoped they would become.  That thought revolutionized my thinking.  It freed me to look at my boys with new eyes.  What did I hope them to become?” (Siblings Without Rivalry 122)

When church issues arise, what do I see normally happen?  Generally a whole lot of attention is given to the “abusers” or “complainers”:  they can be the loudest.  What would happen if we paid attention to the injured party?  Would people still only like Jesus and not the church?  Would people be freed of the roles they’ve assumed or been placed in?  Would we start to take baby steps towards that better way of being and acting?  In the Old Testament there’s a bit of doom and gloom, especially in the prophetic books.  But if I wade through it, I come to the other side reading such words of encouragement - hope - a better way - The Better Way.  

Hope.  Come, Lord Jesus, come.

My mind is almost always writing:  shopping lists, to do lists, things to do with the hubby/kids lists, etc.  Behind all of that there is another writer, the one who keeps pondering “What would it look like to live a truly intentional life?” and “Don’t forget to share that funny story about Judah with the folks” and “Ooh, this would be a fun post to make out of the flickr pictures” and “What is this whole spiritual life thing all about, anyway?”   These thought processes generally make it onto my blog, sometimes coherant, many times simply bullet points so I at least get them out before they’re forgotten.

But for now, I’m drawing a complete blank.  The “feeling anxious/must write/make the knot go away” sensation is present, but the words.aren’t.coming.  So, in an attempt to try and get some thoughts out, to stir some dialogue, to prompt some considerations, I’m turning to an old Quaker standby:  the Queries.  Which I’ve never really used before, so hey:  now’s as good of a time as any to start.

What are the queries?  Our YM website states:  “The Queries are thoughtful questions that remind people of the spiritual and moral values Friends seek to uphold. They help individuals and the church to consider the true source of spiritual strength, to nurture loving relationships, and to maintain a strong Christian witness to society. The Queries should be read frequently, as a whole or in part, in meetings for worship and business and other gatherings of Friends, and in private devotions. Always there should be time for reflection. Reading the Queries is a tradition of Friends.” True dat.

Because I’m feeling not-so-linear, I thought, “Hey, I won’t start with Query 1.  That’s so obvious.  I’ll start with the query that matches today’s date.”  Stink.  It’s a doozy.

Query 9
Do you conduct yourself in a manner that supports and preserves the sanctity and permanence of marriage? Do you who are married yield to each other in decisions and build up each other as individuals, always cherishing your common bond?

Oy.  “Mawe-widge, that bwessed awangement, that dweam wiffin a dweam”

The other day I heard a couple say it took a good ten years before they felt like they were on a good track for their marriage, getting rid of the junk that happened before they got married, establishing a good foundation.  Ah, relief:  I’ve still got time. 

I’ve been listening to an interesting series from Mars Hill called The Peasant Princess - it’s Mark Driscoll’s take on the Biblical principles of marriage.  It’s been . . . funny . . . challenging . . . practical . . . helpful . . ., but the best part has been listening to it with my husband.  On Friday nights when we’re at home, trying to not to go bed by 8:30 even though we’re pooped (party animals that we are), we’ve listened to a few of the podcasts while playing Tetris Worlds on the Wii.  Afterwards we’ve talked about the things he’s discussed - if we agree, disagree, want to try, never ever will try - and answer some questions he poses.  Times like that are these sacred little spaces for just us - no kids, no job, no “gotta get done” lists.  And we can think about the future, things we’d like to do, rather than just living in the panic of the present moment.

I’ve also listened to a series from Revive Our Hearts talking about the woman’s role as described in Titus 2.  This has been much more of an internal struggle for me as the speakers come from a fairly conservative background, and I live in a fairly liberal environment.  Part of me resonates with their interpretation, part of me recoils:  and I can’t tell if it’s my own thoughts or the influences of others around me that I’m responding with.

I think a lot of my anxt has to do with the whole “yielding” aspect.  I don’t yield well:  ask my parents (husband, camp counselors I didn’t get along with, children, etc.).

“Yielding” to decisions and “building” each other up seems to be a bit conflicting:  I see different road/construction signs in my head.  I know yielding requires action, but it’s different actions than building;  how do the two go together?

And so, in the midst of the holiday bustle, I want to remember to keep my eyes on the important things, the things that can so easily be forgotten, the things that I say, “Buck up and be happy that I’m bustling around like a crazed person:  I’m doing it for you!”:  my husband, my immediate family, my wider family.  Preseverve:  yield:  build.

I’ve been visiting my folks up in Rose Valley for the past week.  It’s my annual “I’m tired of parenting, can the boys and I come stay for a while?” trip, which they always kindly say “Yes.”

Yesterday, in the midst of preparing to go to Big 5 to get New Balance 800 shoes for 40.00 (something my father scouts the ads for on a weekly basis:  gotta stock up on those high numbered New Balances!  No offense to my Nike-employed friends), my dad passed me the Longview Daily News which had an article about Mountain Ministries.  People ask what my dad does up in Rose Valley, and connecting with these folks is a big part of it.  It’s one of the times I see him get so excited that he can’t stop smiling.

Here’s the article, which sums up the ministry much better than I can.  I found the online comments interesting, how passionate people are in their experiences of recovery (whether or not MM “works”).  And here’s another outreach of theirs.  This is what happens when churches/denominations/ministries/people come together - change and transformation.

May we all count our blessings and give back out of our abundance.

Today at Bible Study we were present with an onslaught of Christmas gift opportunities that benefit others through purchase.

• A group of women have created bracelets from beads made in Thailand:  the proceeds go to a house that rescues girls from the sex trade industry.
• A dear friend’s young daughter wants to “buy the farm”:  Her parents turned a picture drawn by the amazing girl into a Christmas card with proceeds going to raise enough money to buy a farm for a village through World Vision.
• A representative from F.I.S.H. shared a promotion sponsored by the Coffee Cottage:  purchase their Christmas Blend, and $2 of every pound purchased goes to F.I.S.H.
• Another friend’s daughter is raising money to go on an orchestra tour by selling locally made jams and syrups.
• NFC is hosting a Make It Yourself Workshop on December 6th.  By signing up for a time slot and paying a minimal fee, the participants are equipped with supplies and personal instruction from very knowledgable and crafty people on how to do things such as make candy, create gift boxes, make memory books, knit and crochet simple projects, etc.  This idea is coupled with our churches participation in The Advent Conspiracy:  spend less on Christmas, give more.  A statistic was given that if Americans put money spent at Christmas towards solving the world’s water crisis, that it would be fixed 45 times over.

The facilitator, one of the most tender-hearted people I know, commented, “Now, I know economic times are hard, and merchants want you to go out and shop, so I do feel a little bit bad about that.”  My wheels started turning (mind you, their idealistic wheels:  if I had realistic wheels, I’d probably be doing rather than yammering about it).

Random thoughts:  what if our way of life is unsustainable (I know:  it’s a fairly obvious answer)?  Why should we spend more and perpetuate an unhealthy system?  When you have those crisis moments, it’s an opportunity to change, or to ignore or make do and limp along until the next crisis.  Like transitioning my sons to sleep through the night:  yes, it stunk.  Yes, we had to get up repeatedly.  But by not giving in, by being consistent, by being committed to doing things differently, it got easier . . . better . . . healthier . . . eventually.  I remember reading in books about establishing healthy patterns with sleep that the author often said, “Just when you’re about to give up, if you stick with it, the tide will turn.”  And each time, that happened.

We’ve been given the gift of a crisis:  will we make do, or will we change?  What is that change we’re called towards?  How do we combat the black pit of consumption?

One thought:  live simply, so others might simply live.  And I’m thinking that living in such a manner requires community . . . .

Another friend and I were Facebook messaging about the food crisis.  She said that the Food Banks are in desperate need for the upcoming holiday and was discerning her call to help.  She mentioned that her family gives, but it’s hard to talk about what to do with others, because we’re supposed to keep our giving to ourselves, not to flaunt it to benefit ourselves. But if we don’t talk in community, however will we be able to act effectively?  What sorts of places or forums can we share such ideas and leadings, to gather together, to equip, to be the hands and feet of Christ?

I heard that Oregon is one of the top five hungriest states.  Where I live!!  Not in rural America, not in the South, but here.  Oregon.  My home state.

Consumption;  too much, not enough.

Again, Isaiah 58 was read today, at Bible Study in a talk on prejudice.

6 “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?

7 Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness ^[a] will go before you,
and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.

9 Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,

10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.

11 The LORD will guide you always;
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like a spring whose waters never fail.

12 Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.

13 “If you keep your feet from breaking the Sabbath
and from doing as you please on my holy day,
if you call the Sabbath a delight
and the LORD’s holy day honorable,
and if you honor it by not going your own way
and not doing as you please or speaking idle words,

14 then you will find your joy in the LORD,
and I will cause you to ride on the heights of the land
and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob.”
The mouth of the LORD has spoken.

Tears overwhelmed my eyes (i.e. The Spirit was present!)  The speaker said we need to learn to share the Truth in Love.  I thought about how that means to share the Truth in Christ, because Christ is Love.  But what does that look like?  How do we share the Truth in Love about our economy?  Our life styles?  Our consumption?

Words that come to mind:  Baby steps.  Intentionality.  Community.  Vulnerability.  Listening.  Humility.  Sitting with suffering.  Abiding.

May we be your hands and feet:  to create and further Your Kingdom.  Day by day.

Last night my book group met to discuss A.J. Jacob’s The Year of Living Biblically:  One Man’s Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible.  I’ve heard him speak before and wondered where he was going to go with this:  would the outcome show his experience to be unreasonable, mocking something I hold dear, or would it reveal some sort of change in him, as I change with exposure to these Words?

I partially read the book with a jealous eye, wondering why I don’t write for a living like he does.  And then I read wondering what sort of Year Long Experiment I could embark upon, although I don’t think I’m up for writing the girl version of this book (bleck).  Things I took away:

• How much he was bothered by lying.  And how much he lies (one of the book group folks mentioned how they were shocked at how much he lied.  My comment:  “Of course he lies:  he’s a writer” ).  Just little lies, like telling his son that he didn’t have a certain type of food when really he just didn’t want to prepare it for his son.  How often do I say untruthes out of convience for me?  How relative is my truth to my comfort/laziness?
• He interviewed quite a few “fundamentals/zealots/legalistic/orthodox” folks or sects - going to Jerry Folwell’s church, talking to Red Letter Christians, connecting with the Amish and Jehovah’s Witnesses and people who are searching for the Red Heifer so the rebuilding of the Temple can commence.  And through all of these interviews, the author seemed genuinely interested and respectful of the folks sharing their stories.  He didn’t come in with a lot of presuppositions or looking for folks to reaffirm his position:  he simply listened, took it in, reported how things resonated with him.  And people seemed to share honestly with him.  When I talk with others, I automatically critique/take apart their words, see what I think is right and wrong, and disgard or do not hold the other parts to be worthy.  It’s so disrespectful.  Christ, the ultimate judge, drew people in, not drawing lines of where they measured up.
• The author came to the conclusion that this lifestyle could not be lived alone.  So why do I spend so much time reading Scripture by myself instead of in community?
• Although it was really inconvenient, he said this lifestyle helped him live more intentionally, thinking about all the people it takes, all the actions it requires, all the effort and effect it created.  Perhaps if I lived in ways that were “inconvenient” I would more remember how “inconvenient” it was for Christ to suffer.

Just some things to think about . . .

This past week I’ve had the opportunity to stay home:  with a sick little boy, with a growing and tired little toddler, with an in-the-midst-of-intense-work hubby, with a weary and contemplative me.  It was nice to rest.  Normally the lack of schedule and activities freaks me out:  I like the structure, the business, to keep that rhythm of life clicking, or perhaps to keep the nagging thoughts at bay.

This week, as I’ve been able to sit a bit (or at least not run around in public, seeing as how I don’t breed sitters), I was thinking about how doing a few things and doing them well is enjoyable and thought about how I/we should do that more often.  For some reason I got a sense that I’ve thought about that before . . . that I might have engaged in such a practice . . . . oh, that’s right, a few months ago we did!  The Fast!  How quickly I forget . . . and how quickly I resume to “normal life”, picking up business and unintentionality all over again.

Jason and I have been been trying to schedule various activities/gatherings/etc.  with other folks in a couple of different cases, but nothing’s really happening:  we can’t find a time when we are all free:  we’re too busy.

We got rid of our cable this summer and bought an antenna.  It’s been one of the most clarifying for me.  We lack a lot of channels we used to have, but I’m finding now that I really didn’t watch them:  I used them as white noise, distractions.  Now that I have fewer channels, I actually watch the show that’s on, I savor it, or I turn the tv off.  I don’t channel surf like I used to, trying to maximize my Viewing Experience:  I don’t have a nagging sense that I’m missing Something Better.  I simply watch, or I turn off.

This week, being somewhat quarantined with my small tykes and my weary husband, I’ve simply been with them:  baked, played Legos, read books, sang songs, danced, snuggled.  We couldn’t run around a do a lot, we couldn’t make it to meetings, we missed Sunday school and play dates:  all good stuff, but do I need to be doing it all?  Am I really enjoying it, participating fully?  Or am I using it as white noise?

It’s a little surreal to think that this summer I fasted in my community.  I wonder if others experienced the same short-term memory loss, and I wonder what we could/should do to be reminded.  Or if the opportunity arose, would I prefer to change the channel?