C is for...

I went to a Church this evening which absolutely delighted me. It was mostly younger-than-me people (e.g. the pastor is 32!) who are Completely passionate about Creating a Cross-Centered, Christ-following Community...with a capital C...kind of stunning for this day and age, really. Their information contained words like Covenant, Commitment and even Confrontation. Suddenly I didn't feel like such an old fogey after all. They are absolutely open to Conversation with the Curious and skeptical while being completely serious in their pursuit of truth and looking intently (and intensely) at what Scripture has to say about everything. Short of being a "house church," they want to, as much as possible, live a first-century life within the twenty-first-century culture. I was more than impressed.

I had the opportunity to Chat with the pastor at the end of the service and to pray for him. He's got a big heart and a big vision for his small-but-growing flock. And while I don't know if I will join them on their particular journey, I wanted very much to bless this shepherd and his very serious desire to live "life together" (à la Bonhoeffer).

(Check them out at www.eucharistsf.org.)

A Purpose-Driven Life

"We are not human doings, we are human beings," I have been known to say.

Now I get to walk the talk.

This is a very interesting season for me. I am in a new home in a new town where I don't know anyone. I don't have a job or a ministry or even a church to attend...yet. The dogs aren't even here...yet. My calendar is, for the most part, completely empty, and I am alone for 13+ hours each weekday.

I could say, "Be careful what you wish for," as much of my adult life has been so hectic (sometimes frenetic!) and for many years Glenn worked at home, so I rarely had the house to myself. The calendar was always filled with various church/ministry/school activities, meetings and appointments and it often took a lot of schedule finagling to find a couple of hours to spend with a friend, especially when I added a part-time job to the mix! Kids were always present in one way or another. Now, the house is silent and tidy. (Not that I'm complaining!)

Have I had some times of being down? You bet. But for the most part, I feel like I have been given an amazing gift...a Divine respite/breather/time of rest. There are things I *could* do (one look in our disorganized filing cabinets would tell you that). But for now, I am glad to finally BE, because frankly, I have been mentally/physically/emotionally EXHAUSTED for a looong time.

So I move slowly. Breathe deeply. Soak in the green foliage around me. Talk to God and read the Word. Listen to music. Play online Scrabble. Chat with friends on Facebook. Watch TV shows on hulu.com that I've missed. Read magazines and books. Nibble on dark chocolate. I'm finally getting enough energy back that I'm ready to start slowly exploring my new town and go walking on the beach. (I hope to be able to walk to the beach and back every day, but I need to work up to that!)

And there is finally time and emotional space to process the past couple of years.

(True confessions -- There are days I feel like I "should" be playing the piano/guitar and singing, but that's how I know it's not time yet...it will come.)

A couple of days ago I was feeling a lack of purpose, which I think would be normal under these circumstances. Since then, I have felt the nudge of the Father, reminding me that I was created for relationship with Him first; my purpose has always been, and will always be, to be His child. And it is this purpose that drives me, whether I'm doing or being.

That's my "purpose-driven" life for now, and it is enough.

The First of Many Lasts

As Glenn was saying goodbye to our sons and me this morning -- to head off on the two-day drive to our new place in Alameda -- it hit me hard that it was the last time we'd all be together in this house...the home in which we've lived for nearly ten years. What a decade it's been.

I'm sitting here in our family room, on a couch that doesn't belong to me, listening to the movers tape padding around our furniture. Our dogs, Max and Dweezil, are curled up on the floor, resigned to whatever fate is theirs. They know something's up, but they haven't a clue what it might be. Dweezil is staying close to me, but he always did. Max isn't eating, and he seems pretty depressed. I wish they could understand my words when I assure them that we will soon all be together in our new place.

But then I realize that's only a partial truth. "All" means Glenn, me, Max and Dweezil. Jake will probably stay with us for awhile, most likely after he drives the dogs from Tucson to Alameda (after we build a couple of fences with gates to secure the backyard). But then he will return to Australia...Caleb will be in Nebraska for at least a year...and most likely our nuclear family-of-four will never live in the same house again.

Now I know that kids moving away and having their own lives is normal; we've already experienced that in a few different seasons -- Caleb going to college, then YWAM in Canada, then living on his own; Jake going to YWAM in Australia -- but too many changes are happening at once, and that's hard for me. I like my changes to come one at a time, thank you very much...much like I'd rather have a 10-course tasting menu than have all the plates in front of me...too overwhelming. I want to taste each one, process each bite and savor the flavor before the next plate comes along. OK, so I also love a good buffet, but at least then I get to choose how much to pile on my plate. :)

Apparently God has decided I can handle a plateful of changes. Or maybe not. Maybe He knows I *can't* handle it, so I have to press into Him for His strength to endure this season.

And that's the whole point, isn't it?

"I can do all things through Him who gives me strength." -- Phil 4:13