Church...

So, just a note before I begin...I started my second year of graduate school this week and it is weird. However, I have done a lot of academic and emotional work over the last year, and I definitely feel like I know myself more than I did a year ago. But, more on that later...

I had church tonight. I was sitting around a campfire, on the beach and drinking wine with a good and wise friend. We could hear the seals barking in the background and the sky was magnificent...my friend described the clouds as looking like ribs. We were talking about what it means to love...and, more specifically, what does it mean to love those whom are difficult for us to love. What does it mean to love those that repulse us. I suppose that, as "good" Christians, we are not supposed to be repulsed by anyone, but if we are honest, there are those that we would rather not talk to or spend time with, but who always seem to cross our paths. And, if we are feeling that way, then this person probably has the same affect on other people as well. So, what does community mean for that person and for me, as someone who knows them and senses their loneliness? What does love mean and where is God in all of this? What does God intend for this person and how has God created provided community for this person?

What is Love? and I mean, what is Love when it gets down to the nitty gritty of life and seeing the darkness of the world? The darkness of th world? And why do I focus so much on the darkness and not on the redemption?

Not only were we talking about those we knew, but my friend told me that although she saw much beauty in my heart for others, she felt like she did not really know me. That there was so much inside me that was waiting to be birthed as I grew and learned more about myself and how I was created to be (needless to say, she is not the first person to say this...I have often received much similar feedback). Who am I as a Woman created by God? As we sat and pondered these things a man, drunk, came up to us and wanted to sing us a song. And so, of course, we listened as he sang, and shared a cigarette with us. I am not what one would call a regular smoker, but I do, sometimes, partake of some good cloves and conversation. But, as he offered a song, he offered a cigarette and it seemed fitting to share a smoke in this moment. As he sang, something was stirred in me. Please know that I realize he is an alocholic, but that does not make him bad or any further away from God...in fact, he is outwardly expressing his need for connection and hope and although his method may be problematic, I can much more relate to that outward sign of desparation than to the way many Christians hide their struggles, fears, insecurities, and grief.

As I listened to him sing, sitting beside my friend who has so often revealed hope and love to me, enjoying the beauty of the ocean and stars, I thought, "this is Church to me...this is where God speaks to me." So, I wonder...what is Church? Why do I dread looking for a church to attend every week even though I have often stated I need to find one? I have not regularly attended a church building for around 6 years. I was part of a house church for 4 years and it was beautiful, yet so very hard.

So, what is church? Where is church? I know that I experienced Christ tonight...by the fire, with wine, a good friend and a serenading and beautiful, yet broken drunk man, with the bark of seals in the background. What do I look for and where?

Church is, really, all around. The Spirit is working everywhere and, at all times, we can give praise for that. It is arrogance to think that I can go to church and then go out into the world and think I bring Jesus to where I go. Although I do believe that I bring who I am, created by God and moved by the Spirit, to places, I do not think I take Jesus anywhere that God has not already been. Maybe someday I will join a church or a house church, but in the meantime, I get to see God on the beach with Deb, a wise and beautiful friend who sees me well and Tuck, a man who is desperate but in no way more desperate than I...searching, hopeful, needy, beautiful and broken.

I was in church tonight and I am so grateful.

Home...

When I moved away from Missoula, Montana a year ago, I felt as though I were moving away from home. I had lived there for four years and had invested a lot of time there through my relationships with friends, work, recreation and emotional attachment. As I have lived in Seattle, Washington, I have been grappling with "where is home?" and "who are my home?" and even physically changing houses in Seattle has left me feeling unsettled and not sure if Seattle feels like home yet. Even when I went back to Missoula in November for Thanksgiving, I felt like I was going home. However, after living life in Seattle for a year, and even though Seattle does not feel totally like home either, upon returning to Missoula at the end of July for a reunion with friends, it did not feel like I was returning home. It felt like I was going to a family reunion in a place we go to every summer. There were the same farmer's markets, breweries, festivals, hiking and mountains that I loved, and still love, but it felt different this time. I had a great time with my friends and being back in the beauty of Missoula and Montana, but it is not where I am living life right now. That was a weird internal shift to realize that I actually missed Seattle, and maybe it's less missing Seattle and more being attached to my routine, my house and life in Seattle.

So, maybe I will someday return to Missoula to live, but I am beginning to feel like Seattle is more like home. I am not quite able to say that Seattle is home yet, but it's on its way. And, of course, home can be in more than one place or group of people. The idea of home begs a larger question of what makes a home. Is it where family is or where friends are? Is it a region? A physical place or a group of people? Going to my parent's home in Oklahoma feels like I'm going home in the sense that that is where my parents are, but I did not grow up in Oklahoma, but it is where my mom grew up and so my roots lie there (as well as Mississippi where my dad grew up). However, returning to where I grew up may feel familiar and I have roots there, but is it returning home? The Northwest feels like "home" in that I feel like I fit more here (fit as in way of life, values, beliefs, etc.) than any other region I have lived or visited. Being with my friends in Missoula was like coming home in many ways, but I have not lived life with them for a year so while it was familiar, it was also unfamiliar in that I have not been a part of their daily lives. So, I am always in search of my home I think. And, I know that being a Christian, this is where I am supposed to say that heaven is my home and that I will never truly find home until I am in heaven with Jesus and that is probably true, but I hope I continue to find glimpses here. I already have.

It's been a while...

The top picture is of me and my new nephew, Gabriel. The center one is my other nephew, Micah. And the third picture is of me and my friends Esther and Erin when they came to visit me in May.

Wow, I haven't posted anything for 3 months. I guess I've been busy :). Since I last posted I moved to a new house with three new people whom I love. I painted my new room red. I have always wanted a red room and I love it! There are three big windows and a high ceiling so the red does not make the room seem too small. It did definitely felt a bit daunting to start over with a new house community, but it has been worth it and really good. I am working nights more now though so I do not see them as often as I could since they are usually around more at night (well, in theory). My friends Esther and Erin came to visit me from Missoula over Memorial Day weekend which was fun. I have a summer term and have taken a Research and Statistics class, a Leadership class and am currently in Multicultural Issues class. More on that later...

I am also a new Aunt! Gabriel Aaron Womack was born June 29, 2008 at 6:33 am. He weighed 6 lbs. 15 oz. and I got to see him. I traveled to Northern California last week to see him and Micah and Wayne and Kelly. It was a really good time although Micah was not so sure about me being there. Babies are amazing...they are so small. He was a week old when I got there and his finger and toe nails were so teeny and his butt fit in my palm and his little floppy head was so cute. He makes really cute faces. Ya know, I have always thought that I wanted to kids but it was never a felt like "I really want a baby" and I think for the first time I felt that...a bit. Not a lot, but a bit. I'm still in no hurry, but I think it's more of a hope than an assumption now which is an interesting place to be.

So, an update on the hair...I know you all were dying to know. Well, I am still growing it out and yes, it's driving me crazy. However, it has been quite the process. As it grew out I definitely noticed how much of my identity I tied to my hair. I think my hair became about being able to look and be how I wanted and not let anyone tell me I was less of woman because of it, or even just less of a person...maybe it was "redefining femininity" as one friend put it. Another friend stated it was kind of like losing armour as in I don't have my hair to say "fuck you" anymore. I'm no longer the girl with spiky short hair who, with my presence, is trying to challenge some status quo I think exists. Not that me growing my hair out means I don't want to challenge the status quo, but I am can do it with more than my hair. Which I knew before but it just got wrapped up in what I wanted others' perceptions to be versus who I knew myself to be. So, not sure how long I will grow it out and I am sure I will someday cut it again, but it has definitely been an self-awareness raising process (wow, just like everything else this year...enough already!).

So, my multicultural class has been really good, but hard as well. I have had many conversations about race and diversity and oppression where I used to work, but this has definitely been a new experience. It makes sense as the people, place and I are different. It is hard to engage in conversations about race because there is so much pain and harm that has been done and so much complexity in knowing how to improve the way racism systemically causes harm. And, it is not just systemic. I, as a White woman, can choose or not choose to engage in those conversations. That is my privilege, but it is also costing me relationships and experiencing beauty when I choose to stay in my safe little world where everyone looks like me, believes like me, works like me and where I am comfortable. What alternative do I have though? As a therapist or someone who works in an agency where I serve a diverse population, what will I do when I sit across from someone who has been harmed their whole life by racism? How will I know when I am asking them to be like me and what I believe is right instead of seeing how that would be asking them to give up their culture and their identity? How will I sit with a friend who is struggling because as a Thai woman she was told she needed to give up her Buddhist culture in order to follow a White Jesus? She believes the gospel is true but is it only true if she tries to be White? I don't believe that is the Jesus of the gospel and I don't want to perpetuate that.

Wow, there is so much around this topic and since I am writing a paper about it I am not going to write a book here. However, I hope I am never satisfied with the way things are now, in the world, in the evangelical church or in my heart around the issue of racism.

I will try to not go three months without posting, but no promises...my fall term starts in 6 weeks so you never know.

Hair...

I am growing my hair out a little bit. I have had short hair for most of the past seven years and I have grown quite attached to it. I'm that tall girl with short spiky hair. It makes me distinctive and there is a subversive part of me that wants short hair just to prove that I can be fully woman and have short hair. People always seem interested in my hair. Either they want to touch it, which is funny to me, or they do touch it without permission (if you don't know someone never, ever assume you are entitled to touch someone's head), or they ask how long it's been short and if I'd ever grow it out again. Up until a month ago I said I would never grow it out because it drove me crazy and because I liked it short.

These things remain true but I am now growing it out. Why? Partly because I saw this woman's hair that was still short and funky but a bit different than what I have now. I thought, "new city, new look." And, I think I kept saying "I never could..." and I do not want to live in "nevers." So, I started to grow it out.

I am having a hard time letting go of my short hair (which is funny because I'm really not growing it out that long). I feel like I am selling out to the idea that woman have to have long hair to be beautiful and Woman. It is funny what we tie to certain parts of our identity. I am sure it also has to do with why I now wear a hoop in my nose. When I got my nose ring, they were kind of novel (at least for white people in my social realm), but now they are trendy. And that annoys me. So, I put a hoop so it could still be distinctive in some way. Perhaps I feel like I am not distinctive enough unless I add something to me to make myself distinctive. Or, maybe it's a reflection of my distinctiveness (which, of course, we are all distinctive in some way). And, it probably changes by the day. But, I digress from my hair...

So, now I am getting all sorts of compliments on my hair which makes me want to cut it because I feel like the compliments are loaded. Maybe they are and maybe they are not, but I never realized I am so contrary. There are two sides to that coin i.e. if people tell me I can't do something then I want to prove them wrong, but it can also get in the way of freedom because I am still being dictated by other people, just in opposition to.

So, if you see me and like my hair, please feel free to compliment me. You may get that day's commentary on my status of comfort/discomfort with growing it out but I invite conversation. And, it really is awkward to grow out my hair. There are so many in-between stages that just are not usually attractive. Alas...

Rest...

Do you ever find it hard to simply stop and rest? Guilt free and freely indulgent? I do. It has been becoming more important to do so the older I get. The things of life seem to pile up and it is hard in the midst of them all to rest. To be at peace. To find solitude.

I have this week "off" of school. It is Reading Week. I am hopelessly behind; so behind in fact that I do not even know how behind I am. I have a paper due next week as well and I still am researching. Oops. Nonetheless, I grabbed my journal, Annie Dillard and Henri Nouwen and took 24 hours for a personal retreat. I went to a place in Edmonds, Washington (not far from Seattle) and was able to be alone and in solitude for a whole day. It was lovely, needed, and well spent. I took a nap. I walked and read and ate and took a bath and slept and explored the area. It was nourishing.

Although I think I could have stayed longer and found plenty to keep me "busy", I was anxious to get back. Anxious to be with people and involved in my life. As much as I admire the mystics and those who spend a lot of time in solitude, I do not think I am one of those people who could do that for a long time. I think I could do it for a week by myself, but not sure if I could do much more. I think I am made for community. I am still figuring out what that means, but I definitely think I am made to be in community.

But, rest and solitude are precious and lovely. I need more of it, but the lack of makes when I get it that much more sweet.

Community...

Wow, so it has been a while since I've posted. It is, in fact, a new month. My 28th birthday came and went (the 16th) and now it is the shortest month of the year. My birthday was good but hard. It is the first time I have not celebrated with my peeps in, oh, maybe 7 years. We did birthdays really well so it was hard. My roommates and some of my other new friends helped me celebrate my birthday.

Speaking of Community...I am taking a class called "Essential Community" and I have come to the conclusion that community is the hardest possible thing to be a part of. Community is where you are exposed, where you must give and receive grace (not sure which is harder), where both pain and joy are known, sometimes within the same day or hour, and where, I think, the experience of the Trinity happens. Deep down I believe I am made for community, but there are many days where I feel that it is too hard. It is funny because I have "lived in community" when I was in Missoula and have now entered Mars Hill/Seattle community and you know what? It does not get easier. In fact, I think it gets harder. I just hope the potential for beauty also increases.

My class will be over in two weeks. I'll let you know what I find out about community when I'm done :).

Happy New Year!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! Yes, 2008 is upon us. I am anticipating 2008...so much has happened in 2007. Thinking back over the past year I can think of things I am both proud of and not proud of. Instead of wallowing in the unproud moments (because, believe me, I do that enough on my own), I thought I'd share some of my most memorable memories of 2007...

* I performed in the production of "The Vagina Monologues" in Missoula, Montana.
* I was able to visit my nephew, Micah and his mom and dad for Micah's 2nd birthday. We were all, unfortunately, sick with the flu most of the weekend, but we still got cake. And, I got to see him walking!!!
* I competed in a short triathalon (swim, bike and run) and a 10K race in the Spring. It was really fun and I am aiming to compete in the Danskin Triathalon here in Seattle in August.
* Recovered from a back injury and kidney infection in the midst of preparing to finish work and move to Seattle.
* I ended a significant time in my life as I moved away from my closest friends in Missoula, Montana and headed to Seattle, Washington to attend graduate school and Mars Hill Graduate School.
* Spent an awesome week with my sister, Janel, in Cozumel as a pre-graduate school hooray. I have never been so tan.
* I journeyed to Portland, Oregon and Sacramento, California to visit close friends.
* Started and completed my first term at at Mars Hill Graduate School.
* I have worked hard at maintaining long-distance relationships while trying to figure out what community here in Seattle looks like.

I don't really do New Year's resolutions. I think they are, in theory, a good idea, but I don't ever make them. I am not sure why, but I think I plan a lot anyway, and have lots of lists anyway, so one so big seems a bit...excessive. One thing I am looking forward to, though, is continuing my graduate program and learning more about myself, God and others. God and the Bible does not really make sense to me most of the time and I have lots of doubts about the Truth of who God is. I do not think this is bad. In fact, over the last year, journeying in those doubts has brought up a lot of emotion. This is hopeful to me. I think that, if there was no emotion or anger or sadness, then there would be no relationship. What relationship with someone you really care about does not involve doubt, fear, sadness, joy, hope, uncertainty?

If I were to make one resolution for this upcoming year I would say that it is to rest more. To be silent more. To be useless more. To be intentional about learning more of who I am and how I am crafted. To seek beauty and goodness and grace. To fight injustice. To be emotional and to embrace that emotion and not be shameful of it. To not give up.

OK, so that is more than one resolution, but they all kind of melt into each other, don't they?

So, Happy New Year, Everyone! I hope it brings many surprises to both you and I.