Broken Deity

I'm a fractured little piece of You
waiting for your boat
to take me far on distant seas
and up the tree
where comets gleam
it's there I've left some hope

I have right here a treasure map
I keep losing it and finding it
or forgetting that I'm wearing it
like glasses my face hiding it

One of these days
all the broken little bits of me
that I've collected on my journey
will be mended and come together
FINALLY.

I'm a broken little deity
hard to imagine God could look like me
I'm having coffee with the demons
and waiting for your boat.

Jesus goes poo like Elmo

Ezra was drumming the other night and making up his own songs to Jesus.The first song was pretty straight forward. The lyrics were something like "we praise you Jesus."

The second song was a little more imaginative... "Jesus goes poo like Elmo." I'm so glad Jay was there as a second witness! very funny.

The background story: Ezra has this "Elmo Pottytime" dvd. There is a song on the dvd about how everyone in the whole world goes poo on the potty. I'm always telling Ezra that he will learn how to go poo on the potty like Elmo. In his 2 year old brain I'm not sure if there is a greater achievement.

To say that Jesus goes poo like Elmo is a very meaningful statement of praise for a toddler and also a great theological statement about Jesus being God incarnate... fully God, fully man. ha! :-)

So, don't forget to use this new statement of praise in your next worship service.

a stolen thought on prayer:

"to maintain a prayerful state of heart and mind, we must regularly move prayer from the subconscious to the conscious realm, deliberately inviting Christ out of the twilight and into the limelight of our lives. There are many ways of doing this... every person is different, but we all need to find those people and places that enable us to re-center on Christ regularly, so that the reflex reaction of our lives remains prayerful, all the time." - from the 24/7prayer website (http://www.24-7prayer.com/prayer/theology)

Well put!

The Huia's song (Te Reo Maori)

He nui ake te koha i te marereko
Maku e tau mai ka whakangaa
Kei to karauna taku kohanga ariki
Whakahonoretia koe e au
Te timatanga me te mutunga
Taku waiata koe i whiriwhiria
Hei whakamaanawa mo Aotearoa e

E te manu huia, whakahokia mai!

The Huia's song:

I give more than a feather for your head,
I'll come here to rest.
I'll make my bed in your crown, a royal nest.
It is you that I honour,
The First and the Last.
My song you have chosen,
Aotearoa you bless.

Huia come home.

the edge of love

We've only just arrived at the love we long for:
true desire;
to belong to our beloved;
to adore and be adored;
to be known and know;
to be found and set free.
we think we're at the end
instead of a horizon,
great unexplored lands beyond our reach
our eyes blur short
just as first explorers would only sail
to a line at the bottom of the sky,
a round world beyond imagination.

Come

It is winter in New Zealand. I can very much relate to the season right now and in my winter season I am very much aware of God - his gentle glances, his non-judging look, his constant invitation to come, even as I am bombarded with toddler screams and baby demands and housework and bed time routines... and life in general is like a zombie marathon.

When I do make time to reflect (usually in the shower) I am pretty amazed at what being a mom is teaching me about God. I'm probably learning even more about myself though. Mostly I'm learning that I'm just a human. And I am very limited. When things are going well, when my emotional tank is full and my stress levels are manageable I'm a pretty nice person. But pushed to my limits I fall a part.

Ezra is a constant challenge for me. We're a lot a like. He has pretty regular meltdowns. He has a hard time with transitions, hard time adapting to new ideas and is easily frustrated. He needs his space and doesn't always know how to deal with his intense emotions. I find it really difficult when he having a meltdown to know how to respond because most of the time he doesn't want me to touch him. So I have to leave him until he has calmed down enough to come to me. As I've watched this happen over and over again I've been learning a big lesson in what it means to "come" to Jesus. I've had some big revelations about what God must feel when his kids won't come to him. And I've also realised how tender He is in his waiting, how eager he is to welcome us even when our first reactions were so bad. My heart melts when Ezra finally decides to sit on my lap and lean into me. It's pretty amazing to think about how God must feel. This has been a huge comfort to me lately because like I've said I've felt my humanity in a very real way.

In the past I would apologised a lot for being human, but lately I have felt really encouraged in my weakness - knowing that God made me with a limited capacity... and also gave me a will so that I can choose to come to him. So, I'm learning what that really means... to come to him over and over and over everyday. And it's not always pretty. I've thrown things and yelled and cried and behaved like a two year old as I've come to him. It's been a really hard month, but I've also felt really free in my weakness and totally accepted by my Father. I've also dared to be very honest with some close friends... disclosing all the embarrassing details of my tantrums. It's been wonderfully therapeutic to discover that I'm not the only human mother on the planet. I think laughing about my lowest moments with friends has done more for my soul than any amount of Bible reading that I could have tried to squeeze into my day.

Well, this has been very, very good for me to spend some time writing. It's funny how when things are down in writing they feel more manageable. Or maybe its the fact that I've had a glass of red wine while I've been typing :-)

Just Jesus

I had a few moments to myself today at a cafe. bliss. I picked up a Marie Claire magazine and came across a "grrrrrrrr" (said with a growl and a scowl) article about a grandmother in Iraq who befriended prostitutes and rape victims, only to indoctrinate them with violence. One by one, she would convince them that the only way to escape their sexual shame was to become a martyr by suicide bombing. Nothing like a little light reading with a coffee to brighten my day! (sarcasm) Is it not enough that these women are suffering under abuse and the loss of every sort of freedom? Now they are being used as pawns in a terror game. Gross.

I have been asking myself the question lately, "How was Jesus just?". I know that He was because God is and Jesus says "if you've seen me, you've seen the Father." But I want to know how Jesus specifically outworked justice in His life. I have next to no time to do any major Bible study, so I'm relying on what I can remember reading in the gospels pre-mommyhood.

As I've been thinking about his life I've been struck by how Jesus isn't just in the way I would expect him to be. Take the case of the tax collectors. Those guys were little creeps, siding with the oppressors and taking money from their own. You would think that Jesus would have a nice little sermon prepared for these guys... with a 5 points on why tax collecting was bad. Instead he makes a lunch date with them. But even though he didn't preach at them (at least nothing that is recorded) you get the idea that they knew where he stood on the issue. I've never been under the impression that Jesus approved of what they were doing and yet I can't think of anything he actually directly said about the matter.

If I was Jesus (and it's a good thing I'm not) I would have started some sort of "Just Tax" campaign and got all my disciples to wear rubber wristbands.

Some other observations...

Jesus seems to have a special disdain for religious injustice... any system that keeps people from God has got to go.

Jesus is generous with his mercy and creative with justice.

Jesus identifies fully as a victim of injustice (to the point of death) and overcomes injustice not through the usual world systems, but through mercy, relationship and LIFE.

Jesus deals with oppression by living as one of the oppressed and restoring the dignity of the victim. Rod Wilson pointed out to me that Jesus made a point of specifying, "the RIGHT cheek" when He says, "if someone hits you on the RIGHT cheek, offer him the other." It would seem that the only way you could have your right cheek hit is if someone backhands you. Now, I'm no expert on these things, but being backhanded seems to be universally demeaning. If this really is the point Jesus is trying to make than he seems to be offering an empowering way of dealing with oppression. In turning your cheek you are saying "I'm not beneath you; If you want to hit me... you'll have to hit me as an equal, in a fair fight." Jesus seems more interested in empowering the oppressed and showing them their true worth than he is in creating political policies that legislate "just" behavior.

So, now I'm left with a lot more questions on how to outwork this in my own life... and what in the world does it mean for the women of Iraq? What alternative solution would Jesus offer to them?

Maybe the next issue of Marie Claire offers an answer... or not.

waiting to be wanted

Ezra told me he loved me for the first time the other day. I've heard him tell his moose puppet and a toy train that he loved them... and i've just waited patiently for my turn. So much about being a mom makes me think about my relationship with God. Who was it that first said "God waits to be wanted" ? I'm understanding that in a whole new light these days. Ezra is teaching me a lot. There are so many times in the day where something doesn't go well for Ezra. He will collapse in a frustrated heap, wailing and kicking. "can I help you ezzy?".... "NOoooooOOOOooo...", he wails.... "It looks like you need a cuddle".... "Stop it! Noooo!", as he shoves his little chubby hand up in my face. And so I wait. And endure his screaming. I make him sit on a chair in his room until he calms down. I wait and wait and wait. And then finally he'll emerge from the bedroom... puffy eyes, slumped little shoulders, dragging his feet... and he'll come, sheepishly, but he'll come. And he'll say "sorry" (only he doesn't say his "r"s right so it sounds more like "sowwy". He'll put his head on my chest and sit with me until the sadness is gone. And sometimes the whole tantrum episode has left me so frustrated... and little chubby cheeks can tell. So, he'll look up at me and ask "mommy, are you sad?". "Yes, Ezra - mommy is frustrated." Then he'll change his tactic, "Mommy, are you happy now?". And unless I'm really, really angry this usually will always melt me on the spot. "Yes, Ezra... Mommy is happy now"

a cold night

It's very cold tonight and I really should be in bed because my baby girl (Indie) will probably be awake 4 or 5 times in the night wanting a cuddle or a little nurse. She is teething so sleep has been hard for her. But instead of being tucked in my bed (warm) I am sitting up late with cold fingers writing my first entry for my blog. I'm tempted to wait until I'm more rested, or more inspired, but really this blog is about me writing in the ordinary moments of my life. The thing is I get deeper thoughts about my life all the time, but before I have a chance to develop those thoughts I'm rushing off to change a nappy or wipe up weetbix before it dries into a cereal plaster on my floor. And so all my deep thoughts about God and life and the meaning of motherhood tend to get lost it the frantic rush of baby and toddler. So maybe, just maybe this will help me stop for a moment and capture those thoughts before they are gone forever. Hmmmm... we'll see. I'm off to bed