Add a few more to the things I'm glad I did even though I wasn't sure I would be glad.
1. Pushed it to the top of Rattlesnake Ledge. AMAZING VIEW. (and not even sore the next day! I pretty much rocked that one.)
2. Bought my daughter a round trip ticket to London even though I subscribe to the notion that families should at least stay on the same CONTINENT. (her overflowing joy and excitment is pretty hard to miss...priceless to me.)
3. Went to see Megadeth with Eric...wasn't sure 45 year old moms would fit in but rocked that one too. :) (well rocked may be a stretch but I didn't embarrass Eric at least.)
4. Survived Hebrew, even got a B+.
And lastly, continue to find my way into a future that is far different than I anticipated but is no less surrounded with Grace. Thanks be to God for the things we do even when we didn't ever think we could or would...whether we think we rock them or not, He always does.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Pentecost
When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard their own language being spoken. Utterly amazed, they asked: “Aren’t all these who are speaking Galileans? Then how is it that each of us hears them in our native language?" Acts 2:6-8
They were utterly amazed! When the Holy Spirit came like a rushing wind each one heard in their own language. That must have been incredible. Can you imagine what it would feel like to know that your own language, not just that of your speech but of your heart, was truly understood and truly spoken in return to you? The exciting news of Pentecost is still pretty incredible. The Holy Spirit knows us, intimately, speaks the language of our verbal words and of our heart, even the heart language for which we have no words.
This is a very comforting concept for me and further reason to fall yet deeper in love with this Sacred Mystery that seems very ready to lift me to my feet time and again. This Sunday is really significant this year. Once again the church celebrates the generous gift of the Holy Spirit and our church often has a brass choir to help with that celebration. Chris used to play in that brass choir and it's been hard some Sundays to hear them play and see his absence. This year, however, I get to watch my son take that spot. Eric will be playing brass on Sunday and the Holy Spirit will speak the language of his heart, of Emily's heart and of mine...along with each of yours.
My prayer is for you to find some bewilderment in that knowledge and that awareness. About three years ago, I read the book The Shack. It was a challenge for me not because of its hard questions about when hard things happen but because it stretched me in my images of God. I've changed a LOT since then and I now embrace the image of the Holy Spirit in that book. I won't spoil the plot for those of you who haven't read it but one image sticks with me, was with me in the hospital and has been with me in the hardest moments and in some of the happiest ones. That image is this "the Holy Spirit loves to collect tears." I imagine a few will be collected on Sunday when Eric plays. They are collected every time I hug one of my kids, when I listen to them begin once again to dream big dreams for the future. They are also collected when I sit in those silent moments and trust that Pentecost news, that the Holy Spirit speaks my language, one that is all my very own. Rejoice this Sunday, dream big and be heard...that same Spirit knows your language too.
Grace for your journey,
Leigh
They were utterly amazed! When the Holy Spirit came like a rushing wind each one heard in their own language. That must have been incredible. Can you imagine what it would feel like to know that your own language, not just that of your speech but of your heart, was truly understood and truly spoken in return to you? The exciting news of Pentecost is still pretty incredible. The Holy Spirit knows us, intimately, speaks the language of our verbal words and of our heart, even the heart language for which we have no words.
This is a very comforting concept for me and further reason to fall yet deeper in love with this Sacred Mystery that seems very ready to lift me to my feet time and again. This Sunday is really significant this year. Once again the church celebrates the generous gift of the Holy Spirit and our church often has a brass choir to help with that celebration. Chris used to play in that brass choir and it's been hard some Sundays to hear them play and see his absence. This year, however, I get to watch my son take that spot. Eric will be playing brass on Sunday and the Holy Spirit will speak the language of his heart, of Emily's heart and of mine...along with each of yours.
My prayer is for you to find some bewilderment in that knowledge and that awareness. About three years ago, I read the book The Shack. It was a challenge for me not because of its hard questions about when hard things happen but because it stretched me in my images of God. I've changed a LOT since then and I now embrace the image of the Holy Spirit in that book. I won't spoil the plot for those of you who haven't read it but one image sticks with me, was with me in the hospital and has been with me in the hardest moments and in some of the happiest ones. That image is this "the Holy Spirit loves to collect tears." I imagine a few will be collected on Sunday when Eric plays. They are collected every time I hug one of my kids, when I listen to them begin once again to dream big dreams for the future. They are also collected when I sit in those silent moments and trust that Pentecost news, that the Holy Spirit speaks my language, one that is all my very own. Rejoice this Sunday, dream big and be heard...that same Spirit knows your language too.
Grace for your journey,
Leigh
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Discomfort
It's been two months since I've written here. I don't know why precisely although I can create a litany of seemingly valid reasons, school demands more and more attention, I find myself more deeply involved in a few of my church commitments, I work hard to create intentional time with my kids, the litany continues. What is more likely the case on some deeper level is that I have simply had nothing to share that could be formed in any meaningful and articulate way and my stream of conscious thought wasn't something I thought anyone would ever really want to read.
To update you briefly on our first year anniversary, we went to Disneyland for the day. It does sound kind of nuts on one hand, getting up in Seattle at four in the morning, flying to Disneyland and coming home fifteen hours later to sleep in our own beds. It's really all we had time for, given school and work for Emily etc. It was meaningful, more than I can express actually. Chris' laughter will forever be etched in the walls of Space Mountain so going there to hear it was important. We left rainy grayness and found Southern Californian sunshine, complete with thriving orange trees in the California Adventure side of Disneyland. Kids soaked up much needed Vitamin D, something in short supply naturally in our winters and I soaked up that and a plethora of theological and psychological significance to just about everything in the park. In the end it was simply hard not to smile a lot. I felt Chris' nod of approval, even at the absurdity of spending the money to fly that far of a round trip for one day. 9:51 p.m., the exact time of his passing, found us on an Alaska Air flight somewhere over Oregon most likely, heading back to Seattle, holding hands, remembering and finding some okay-ness.
I've been learning about discomfort and self-consciousness a lot lately. I have plenty of both, like most of I suppose. I have felt increasingly challenged to confront both of these concepts. So, I'm trying to open up to precisely the very things that challenge my comfort level...emergent types of worship (something seminary is filled with), new ways of thinking about how different people come into relationship with God and even Tai Chi, something that I have been totally closed off to because I simply thought I looked so retarded trying it that I couldn't get past that in my head enough to live into the experience. I'm not fully there yet but I'm learning.
Along the way, I've pulled out my bible, partly for the lectio divinio way of reading it, letting it be the organic form that it is and come to ME instead of me having somehow to master it. That's been tremendously rich to my devotional time. The other thing I have done is open myself a little more to the last book of the New Testament a little more deeply. With the help of a book by Eugene Peterson, that is something I will be sharing a little more of here in this venue. When Chris first passed on, I defaulted to my favorite books of the Bible, Psalms, Jeremiah and Lamentations. They were very comforting. And I have long been made uncomfortable by Revelation, mainly because I've struggled to understand it. But in this theme of being open to discomfort and of my deep desire to stay aware and open to the incredible Church Triumphant, I am learning that being uncomfortable is a good indication that you are growing.
And so I'd like to invite you into some thought about the meaning of holiness, of the Church Triumphant, of heaven, of the very kingdom of God and into learning to live with discomfort. We'll see where this goes and I'll try not to let two months lapse before I share more of what I am learning.
Grace for your journey,
Leigh
To update you briefly on our first year anniversary, we went to Disneyland for the day. It does sound kind of nuts on one hand, getting up in Seattle at four in the morning, flying to Disneyland and coming home fifteen hours later to sleep in our own beds. It's really all we had time for, given school and work for Emily etc. It was meaningful, more than I can express actually. Chris' laughter will forever be etched in the walls of Space Mountain so going there to hear it was important. We left rainy grayness and found Southern Californian sunshine, complete with thriving orange trees in the California Adventure side of Disneyland. Kids soaked up much needed Vitamin D, something in short supply naturally in our winters and I soaked up that and a plethora of theological and psychological significance to just about everything in the park. In the end it was simply hard not to smile a lot. I felt Chris' nod of approval, even at the absurdity of spending the money to fly that far of a round trip for one day. 9:51 p.m., the exact time of his passing, found us on an Alaska Air flight somewhere over Oregon most likely, heading back to Seattle, holding hands, remembering and finding some okay-ness.
I've been learning about discomfort and self-consciousness a lot lately. I have plenty of both, like most of I suppose. I have felt increasingly challenged to confront both of these concepts. So, I'm trying to open up to precisely the very things that challenge my comfort level...emergent types of worship (something seminary is filled with), new ways of thinking about how different people come into relationship with God and even Tai Chi, something that I have been totally closed off to because I simply thought I looked so retarded trying it that I couldn't get past that in my head enough to live into the experience. I'm not fully there yet but I'm learning.
Along the way, I've pulled out my bible, partly for the lectio divinio way of reading it, letting it be the organic form that it is and come to ME instead of me having somehow to master it. That's been tremendously rich to my devotional time. The other thing I have done is open myself a little more to the last book of the New Testament a little more deeply. With the help of a book by Eugene Peterson, that is something I will be sharing a little more of here in this venue. When Chris first passed on, I defaulted to my favorite books of the Bible, Psalms, Jeremiah and Lamentations. They were very comforting. And I have long been made uncomfortable by Revelation, mainly because I've struggled to understand it. But in this theme of being open to discomfort and of my deep desire to stay aware and open to the incredible Church Triumphant, I am learning that being uncomfortable is a good indication that you are growing.
And so I'd like to invite you into some thought about the meaning of holiness, of the Church Triumphant, of heaven, of the very kingdom of God and into learning to live with discomfort. We'll see where this goes and I'll try not to let two months lapse before I share more of what I am learning.
Grace for your journey,
Leigh
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
One Year Ago Tonight
If we discover a desire within us that nothing in this world can satisfy, also we should begin to wonder if perhaps we were created for another world. -C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
One year ago tonight I wrapped Chris up in my arms...he had just been taken off the ventilator and his iv's removed. He was safely in my arms with our babies at either side, snuggled in holding him with me. Obviously this has been very present in our hearts and spirits today and we've talked about it some and marked the day with some little special moments that would go unnoticed to most folks but have Weber significance. Emily shared with me in the car the other day something quite meaningful. She said, "I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to get married until last year, but when I watched you hold dad for a good 48 hours, rocking him, singing to him, praying with him, I knew then that marriage was something I wanted for myself one day." I only share this to illustrate a truth I have come to believe in greatly...every moment, even the hardest ones, are teachable moments and grace abounds and God is good.
I visited with my pastor today, he's just about the best at genuine pastoring of anyone I've ever known and he has an incredible ability to be present with you and simply hold your stuff and let it be okay. We talked about that portal that opens sometimes in life, when we feel so close to the Divine that we can almost touch and feel. It's that great cloud of witnesses, the Church Invisible and the absolute Presence of the Triune God that floods in when our spirits are stripped of everything and all of life is set aside. Holding Chris a year ago today, time stopped. Life and everyone and everything in it except for our family was set aside too. While I miss Chris still, quite terribly so, I long even more to touch on more and more of that Presence.
Chris receiving new life in Christ was the hardest moment of my life and yet oh so teachable. God really does fill in the empty spaces. He plants seeds and creates desires for deeper and deeper relationship with Him and all we have to do is lean in to that grace and trust the relationship. Two days after I first gathered him in my arms, my husband's body gave out and in a moment I became a widow. While I stopped being a wife, I know with total certainty I have not stopped being a sister in Christ to him. Chris is now in that very great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us, touching us, holding us and flooding us with Grace.
One year ago tonight I wrapped Chris up in my arms...and God wrapped us up in His. Thanks be to Him who really does keep us from falling.
Grace for your journey,
Leigh
One year ago tonight I wrapped Chris up in my arms...he had just been taken off the ventilator and his iv's removed. He was safely in my arms with our babies at either side, snuggled in holding him with me. Obviously this has been very present in our hearts and spirits today and we've talked about it some and marked the day with some little special moments that would go unnoticed to most folks but have Weber significance. Emily shared with me in the car the other day something quite meaningful. She said, "I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to get married until last year, but when I watched you hold dad for a good 48 hours, rocking him, singing to him, praying with him, I knew then that marriage was something I wanted for myself one day." I only share this to illustrate a truth I have come to believe in greatly...every moment, even the hardest ones, are teachable moments and grace abounds and God is good.
I visited with my pastor today, he's just about the best at genuine pastoring of anyone I've ever known and he has an incredible ability to be present with you and simply hold your stuff and let it be okay. We talked about that portal that opens sometimes in life, when we feel so close to the Divine that we can almost touch and feel. It's that great cloud of witnesses, the Church Invisible and the absolute Presence of the Triune God that floods in when our spirits are stripped of everything and all of life is set aside. Holding Chris a year ago today, time stopped. Life and everyone and everything in it except for our family was set aside too. While I miss Chris still, quite terribly so, I long even more to touch on more and more of that Presence.
Chris receiving new life in Christ was the hardest moment of my life and yet oh so teachable. God really does fill in the empty spaces. He plants seeds and creates desires for deeper and deeper relationship with Him and all we have to do is lean in to that grace and trust the relationship. Two days after I first gathered him in my arms, my husband's body gave out and in a moment I became a widow. While I stopped being a wife, I know with total certainty I have not stopped being a sister in Christ to him. Chris is now in that very great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us, touching us, holding us and flooding us with Grace.
One year ago tonight I wrapped Chris up in my arms...and God wrapped us up in His. Thanks be to Him who really does keep us from falling.
Grace for your journey,
Leigh
Saturday, January 1, 2011
New Year
Grace for your journey,
Leigh
Monday, December 20, 2010
December 20th!
Happy Anniversary Chris! Twenty-four years!
The kids are taking me to dinner, we'll take in some jazz too and we're going to S.A.M. for the Picasso exhibit. I'll miss you terribly, as I always do but I do so rejoice with you. You remind me daily of the Promise that is each of ours.
Loving you always!
Your sister in our very present Christ,
Leigh
The kids are taking me to dinner, we'll take in some jazz too and we're going to S.A.M. for the Picasso exhibit. I'll miss you terribly, as I always do but I do so rejoice with you. You remind me daily of the Promise that is each of ours.
Loving you always!
Your sister in our very present Christ,
Leigh
Friday, December 17, 2010
Big Band Dance
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