...says the simplest answer is usually the best.
There continues to be much talk around our house and in my own head about the best timing for and circumstances around having babies. Tonight I said several of my most recent thoughts on the subject out loud as we were cooking dinner. Later I asked Andy if he had any thoughts on the matter. He said what he has been saying about babies since we got married: "I think we should have one."
When I pointed out that he has had the same answer for over four years, but that lots of the factors, timing, etc. have changed, he just said "But, it's easy. Step 1: We should have a baby. Step 2: I would love it. Step 3:...well...I guess someday it would get old."
This made me laugh out loud for lots of minutes. Would that my brain could work things out so simply.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
fighting fires
It is a week of remembering...Hurricane Katrina, September 11th, and more personal remembrances of Grammy and Nette. It is still a time of sadness for many people I know who have lost people they love recently. It is a hard time for my own family. I don't know that I have much to offer, but I remembered an article I wrote a couple of years ago...more of a letter to the congregation I was with at the time. It was right after a lot of attacks had happened in Iraq and probably right around the one year anniversary of Katrina, although I didn't name that specifically. I've adapted it here and included the full lyrics of the song I was thinking about at the time. I went to bed last night feeling pretty empty and lost. Rereading and adapting this has helped me feel...well, better. I hope it reaches some of you in whatever way you need it right now.
There’s a song I’ve been listening to a lot lately by one of my favorite musicians, Sarah McLachlan. The song is entitled World On Fire, which feels all too true lately. The lines that keep running in my head are
“The world is on fire, it’s more than I can handle.
I’ll tap into the water and try to bring my share.
Try to bring more, more than I can handle.
Bring it to the table.
Bring what I am able.”
Those words can feel so true in my life. These last few weeks our world quite literally has erupted with even more fire in the way of bombs and what seems like never-ending war. While I am not in the midst of that fire, it feels overwhelming and painful to me. Thinking of all of the men and women who are away from home and in harm’s way fighting for their country, the civilians caught in a struggle so much bigger than they are, and all the folks worrying about and praying for their loved ones in the midst of the conflict. That’s a fire in our world that’s more than I can handle.
It doesn’t take something as big as war though, to set our individual worlds on fire. The loss of someone we love can turn our world upside down. A loved one’s struggle with addiction or mental illness can leave us feeling completely alone. The loss of a job can bring turmoil, a struggle about identity, and very practical problems about losing an income. These things can feel like more than we can handle.
This image of fire in our world doesn’t always mean something negative, either. New babies, new houses, new relationships, new jobs are all things that bring immense amounts of change and can turn our worlds upside down. Even if it is wanted and much anticipated change, it can get to feeling like more than we can handle.
But, I am encouraged by the guidance in the next line of the song: I’ll tap into the water and try to bring my share. That image of water reminds us of powerful images in our faith of living water that sustains us. I find myself able to connect with Christ, our living water, through worship experiences in community, connecting with other folks who are journeying through this world with me, prayer, and other spiritual practices. We must take time for Sabbath, for rest, and for finding ways to “tap into the water.”
The good news is that we do have living water to sustain us, to calm the fire, to soothe our souls. Then, we do want to bring our share to the table to try to help. We connect with God and with others by giving back and we are fed in our service. It’s hard, though, because we want to help, but can so easily commit to more than we can handle. But, we want to bring our share. All we can do, though, is bring what we are able to bring at any particular moment. Some of us will be able to offer more than others of us and the load will shift as we journey together. It is important that we honor and support each other as each person discerns what he or she is able to bring to the table.
But the most important part, to me, is that we do gather at the table together. That, one way or another, we find a way to bring what we have to the table…even if all we have in our hands is a broken heart. There, around the table, we encounter the living Christ again in the bread and juice. Together, around the table, we can help each other stand.
We are all journeying together. Sometimes it does feel like the world is on fire. We all need to tap into the water and find a way to know rest. We also need to find ways to bring what we feel able and led to bring to the table to, in turn, be filled by the grace of God. I don’t know of any other way to survive the fires that keep erupting in this world. We will find our way…on this journey together.
World On Fire by Sarah McLachlan
Hearts are worn in these dark ages. You're not alone in this story's pages. Night has fallen amongst the living and the dying and I try to hold it in, yeah I try to hold it in, but
Chorus:
The world's on fire and it's more than I can handle. I'll tap into the water and try to bring my share. I try to bring more, more than I can handle. Bring it to the table, bring what I am able.
I watch the heavens and I find a calling, something I can do to change what's coming. Stay close to me while the sky is falling. I don't wanna be left alone, don't wanna be alone.
Chorus
Hearts break, hearts mend. Love still hurts. Visions clash, planes crash. Still there's talk of saving souls. Still the cold is closing in on us. We part the veil on our killer sun, stray from the straight line on this short run. The more we take, the less we become. A fortune of one that means less for some.
Chorus
There’s a song I’ve been listening to a lot lately by one of my favorite musicians, Sarah McLachlan. The song is entitled World On Fire, which feels all too true lately. The lines that keep running in my head are
“The world is on fire, it’s more than I can handle.
I’ll tap into the water and try to bring my share.
Try to bring more, more than I can handle.
Bring it to the table.
Bring what I am able.”
Those words can feel so true in my life. These last few weeks our world quite literally has erupted with even more fire in the way of bombs and what seems like never-ending war. While I am not in the midst of that fire, it feels overwhelming and painful to me. Thinking of all of the men and women who are away from home and in harm’s way fighting for their country, the civilians caught in a struggle so much bigger than they are, and all the folks worrying about and praying for their loved ones in the midst of the conflict. That’s a fire in our world that’s more than I can handle.
It doesn’t take something as big as war though, to set our individual worlds on fire. The loss of someone we love can turn our world upside down. A loved one’s struggle with addiction or mental illness can leave us feeling completely alone. The loss of a job can bring turmoil, a struggle about identity, and very practical problems about losing an income. These things can feel like more than we can handle.
This image of fire in our world doesn’t always mean something negative, either. New babies, new houses, new relationships, new jobs are all things that bring immense amounts of change and can turn our worlds upside down. Even if it is wanted and much anticipated change, it can get to feeling like more than we can handle.
But, I am encouraged by the guidance in the next line of the song: I’ll tap into the water and try to bring my share. That image of water reminds us of powerful images in our faith of living water that sustains us. I find myself able to connect with Christ, our living water, through worship experiences in community, connecting with other folks who are journeying through this world with me, prayer, and other spiritual practices. We must take time for Sabbath, for rest, and for finding ways to “tap into the water.”
The good news is that we do have living water to sustain us, to calm the fire, to soothe our souls. Then, we do want to bring our share to the table to try to help. We connect with God and with others by giving back and we are fed in our service. It’s hard, though, because we want to help, but can so easily commit to more than we can handle. But, we want to bring our share. All we can do, though, is bring what we are able to bring at any particular moment. Some of us will be able to offer more than others of us and the load will shift as we journey together. It is important that we honor and support each other as each person discerns what he or she is able to bring to the table.
But the most important part, to me, is that we do gather at the table together. That, one way or another, we find a way to bring what we have to the table…even if all we have in our hands is a broken heart. There, around the table, we encounter the living Christ again in the bread and juice. Together, around the table, we can help each other stand.
We are all journeying together. Sometimes it does feel like the world is on fire. We all need to tap into the water and find a way to know rest. We also need to find ways to bring what we feel able and led to bring to the table to, in turn, be filled by the grace of God. I don’t know of any other way to survive the fires that keep erupting in this world. We will find our way…on this journey together.
World On Fire by Sarah McLachlan
Hearts are worn in these dark ages. You're not alone in this story's pages. Night has fallen amongst the living and the dying and I try to hold it in, yeah I try to hold it in, but
Chorus:
The world's on fire and it's more than I can handle. I'll tap into the water and try to bring my share. I try to bring more, more than I can handle. Bring it to the table, bring what I am able.
I watch the heavens and I find a calling, something I can do to change what's coming. Stay close to me while the sky is falling. I don't wanna be left alone, don't wanna be alone.
Chorus
Hearts break, hearts mend. Love still hurts. Visions clash, planes crash. Still there's talk of saving souls. Still the cold is closing in on us. We part the veil on our killer sun, stray from the straight line on this short run. The more we take, the less we become. A fortune of one that means less for some.
Chorus
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