Harmless as doves

It has been a long time since our family has blogged on here so I, Becky, thought I'd give it a go as mind my is full of thoughts. Maybe this blog will in a sense be cathartic for me. I've written about this in my family's previous blogs however, I'd like to mention it again.

One of the things I've mentioned before and cannot even attempt to hide is how much I love my little girl and the innocence that is in her. It's beautiful - she's so free, so open to all kinds of people, unafraid of new things, her emotions are so real, etc. She can be walking along and say "Hi" to any stranger and they respond to her. I, on the other hand, will say "Hi" to strangers when I'm out running and I can't tell you how many people look away or just don't respond. It bugs me and has actually made me say "hi" louder but to no further avail. What is it with people?

They respond to Miri because she's innocent, she doesn't demand anything of them, they don't question her motives. She's just purely being friendly. I actually think that adults are flattered when a baby freely chooses to communicate with them. (How nice it would be if people were flattered that I chose to say Hi to them :) ). When I say "hello" I know that my motives are innocent and that I'm just trying to be friendly but the people who I pass by don't know this and each of them has their own complex life story, maybe they don't trust people, or maybe they don't like my skin color, or maybe they are afraid, maybe they don't like people in general, maybe their deaf- I don't know but for what ever reason they keep distant.

It's not just when I'm trying to say hello to people that I notice this, it seems to happen everywhere; so many people are skeptical and on guard all of the time. No longer do neighbors trust neighbors. The media fills all of us with such fear that we question whether the guy or girl down the road is going to try to sexually molest our kids. We even doubt our clergy. I understand the fear but with the fear I also long and hope for the freedom to love people without them questioning my motives or me questioning theirs. I pray for the eyes to see and believe that people's motives may in fact be good at times. I long for a place where that childlike innocence that Miri displays can reside. I long for a place where friends can walk hand in hand and not be questioned in regard to their sexual orientation. I long for a place where people can tell people that they love them without the person thinking "wow she is so weird".

There are times when this freedom is seen and is acceptable but oftentimes it's in the midst of tragedy like 911 or a death of someone we cared about; in those times we embrace eachother and are able to enter honestly into our emotions freely without being judged or judging. Suffering is terrible, never easy to go through, and so often difficult to understand but to see the beauty that it can at times bring through the loving connection of strangers and family is an amazing byproduct. Why is it that it takes pain to tear away our pretense?

I often do feel childlike inside and sometimes I probably act this way too - my husband, Ken, may say it's more childish than childlike but I would disagree, of course. People who know me know this about me. People who don't probably do think I'm weird. I guess it doesn't matter. I do find comfort in the fact that in my Christian worldview I can know that it is God who looks deep inside and sees the motives inside my heart. God is really the only one who can fairly judge anyway. But I still hope for a heaven on earth like scenario where the beauty in our lives flows from the inside out and can be accepted in it's pure form.

Thoughts & Prayers For This Day

Have mercy on me, O Beneficent One, I was angered

for I had no shoes: then I met a man who had no feet.

-Chinese saying

Fear does not gladden.

Healing does.

Fear always makes exceptions.

Healing never does.

Fear produces dissociation,

because it induces separation.

Healing always produces harmony,

because it proceeds from integration.

-from A Course in Miracles

Every man prays in his own language,

and there is no language that

God does not understand.

-Duke Ellington

I do not ask to walk smooth paths

nor bear an easy load.

I pray for strength and fortitude

to climb the rock strewn road

Give me such courage and I can scale

the headiest peaks alone,

And transform every stumbling block

into a stepping stone

-Gail Brook Burkett

Posted by Becky

New Kayaks!!!

1. 
   
   Last weekend Kenny and I went to Midwest-mountaineerings' annual Kayak/canoe auction. It is quite possibly the biggest Kayak auction in the country. We both have touring kayaks at home that we have used many a time on local rivers but Kenny had his heart set on a creek boat which is used more for rougher whitewater rivers. So.......the deals were so good that day that we were able to get two creek kayaks - one for me and one for kenny! The one on the top with Miri in it is the one that I bid on. It is a darker red - more like a tomato color whereas kenny's is more strawberryish. Both used but nice river kayaks. We are eager to test them out on some of the more active rivers in the midwest region. Yaaay!! I am so excited!!
   

This last picture is of my brother Pete (on the left) performing with a friend of his a few songs that they each wrote. We met them over at Tillie's coffee in Minneapolis. This was in the evening - the same day of the auction. Pete performed very well. It was a super fun day. And a beautiful warm one for this time of year. Let the Summer begin!!!!!!

Ode to Matt

Here are my two attempts at Haiku poetry tonight (rivers seem to be filling my mind and images of peace):

#1
Barefoot in the brook
Happy feet dancing freely
Joy is found in this

#2
The river babbles
Active, lively with purpose
My dry soul listens

Becky

Easter Pictures

Kenny and Miri with her new frog from Suzy
Miri with her Easter basket
Miri hunting for Easter eggs. She was actually really walking around with her little basket looking for eggs. My amazing little 16month old!

Reflections on Good Friday

I haven't always been good at reflection during the Christian holidays. Perhaps it is the desensitization that often happens when you are overloaded with Sunday school stories as a child. Maybe it is our culture's movement away from the original meanings of the Christian calender toward an emphasis on the consumer calender. Still it could be the habit of many of our Christian traditions to strip Christ from His 1st century context and reduce the meaning of this weekend to the crucifixion of Christ and a free ticket to heaven. Most likely it is a combination of these (and possibly a few more) factors that allow my thoughts to drift. Fortunately today was different and I found myself reflecting on this day of approximately two thousand years ago. Not just on what it means to me today, but what it meant to those early followers of Christ. When Easter hadn't happened yet... When this man who claimed to be the Messiah now faced and experienced death. What about the Abrahamic promise? We were to be a blessing to the nations.... Through the times of exile and captivity... Was this really the Christ? The Lord that was greater than any ruler in Rome or any other region... He was dead? He was supposed to bring forth the Kingdom...
Although I don't have first hand experience of that day, the hours, and the minutes that these early believers lived, in my reflections I found that in many ways we continue to ask the same questions that they must have. While we know that Good Friday isn't the end of their story, we today await the conclusion of our own story. It seems that Easter isn't just a story we believe from the past but a story we are a part of. When we say goodbye to loved ones in their death we hope... when we await our own death we hope... when we see so many injustices in the world we hope... when we see Creation being disrupted by the sins of man we hope.. It is in that Hope that we live this life. Sometimes we doubt a bit and wonder if it is all true. We wonder in our contemporary world, with its naturalistic assumptions, if we really can believe in a ressurrection? Yet sometimes when the beauty of this life becomes most evident, those moments of awakening and connection with the Holy One, we know that there is something worth believing in it all. I am sure many of those early Christians experienced doubt during the time between Friday and Easter morning. Yet all hope had not been lost. True faith will acknowledge the reality of that tension between hope and doubt. Giving us strength to continue on in the midst of the strongest challenges to our faith. My point in sharing all this is not to promote a form of skepticism in which we live in doubt. Rather, my point is that we can find something in common with the early Christians in our lives on this Good Friday. As they awaited a ressurrection that would birth the Christian faith, we together are awaiting a ressurrection in which we will all come to know fully the Hope that allows us to press on in this life. In that hope we can respond with Christians throughout the centuries.."He is risen!...He is risen indeed!" Ken

Last week pics

The little one "on the go". She is a busy girl - full of energy and life...and emotions!! A true joy!
The contented and happy family at Kenny's parents' - 1st bonfire of the year.
Miriam sporting her valentine's hat given to her from Aunt Laura - she wears it around the house on a regular basis.

A Recent Visit

Becky, Miri, and I attended a Twin Cities postmodern or "emergent" church yesterday. We like our current church but occasionally we discuss looking for something a little different. So we figured we'd check it out. Those of you who know me well shouldn't be surprised that I encourage a "post" modern approach to theology/christian faith. Those who simply dismiss postmodernism or equate it with relativism are just not aware of philosophical history and the discipline of self critique. (Like putting on a worldviews seminar without looking at the problems with pressuppositionalism. Or, saying your taking the Bible literally from a surface reading while being unaware that your method of biblical interpretation comes straight from the commonsense realism of the Scottish Enlightenment.) I could go on and on... Well, back to yesterday..... Although I encourage fresh reconstructions of the christian faith I was a bit dissappointed with the service at this church. My fear prior to attending this church was that it would exemplify postmodernism culturally but in the process lose the substance of the faith needing fresh reconstructions- Emphasizing a new package while forgetting what got this thing called christianity started in the first place (in short, become relativistic). The service was different, people were friendly, discussion was encouraged, but the message was so fluffy I still don't really know the point of it. In fairness, I can't totally criticize a church based on one service yet I do think it can be dangerous if in the process of attempting to accept the trends of culture we lose sight of the message that is meant to transform culture. The christian hope of the already-not-yet kingdom of God must be what leads to the love, acceptance, and community that attracts others into fellowship. It can't be the other way around. I hope that christian churches can find a balance in the future of reconstructing beliefs and doctrines steeped in Modernist thinking and hold to the Gospel that claimed in the first century ,"Jesus is Lord and Ceasar is not!" This claim did not accept culture as is but radically challenged the culture and powers of the day. I pray that this claim, and the hope that is in it, is what defines us as christian communities rather then the trends (modern or postmodern) of the day. To be continued

Thoughts to Depress the soul.

The snow has mostly melted, the ground is brown and bare, the hormonal smell of spring fills the air. The sky is hazy today and although one can hear the happy chirping of the birds the world feels dark and empty. Just when one feels that the world could not get any more depressing, it does. I decided I would ban the news - that lasted one, maybe two, days. It's like a drug - I hate the effects of it on my mind, my spirit, yet, I gravitate to it like honey. Why is that I wonder. It's the same story over and over again, so and so was shot last night...a family of three was killed early this morning....the girl's lost dog was beheaded and placed in a box on her doorstep. It's sick stuff like this and it kills the joy inside, grieves the spirit, makes the heart cynical. Taking a walk on a sunny day isn't as relaxing as it once was as one becomes skeptical of every passerbyer - cautious of the lone walker's motives. I once asked my tutor at L'abri in Switzerland "why" to all of these questions about the existence of evil, the absence of good. He basically said "why not, are you doing anything about it". I'd have to say I'm not doing a whole heck of a lot about it. As sad as that is. And to be honest - I'm afraid to, yet that statement alone reveals my part in the presence of hell on earth. Where is the hope, the trust, the promise, the strength? I pray that I will be more open, less afaid, and that love will somehow take over me. Even this prayer seems empty - Not because God is bad or absent because I do believe that God is present in the pain, again not as it's cause but as the hope. It's the empty prayer feeling of saying something over and over again expectant of change but seeing none. That is the mustard seed of faith that I have today - that perhaps there are things happening, good things that I cannot see but nonetheless exist. What can I say, it's a gloomy day and this is what I have today. Becky-

More snow fun!!!!!!!

"things are getting worse but I feel a lot better....."
"today is just a day fading into another...."
"and meanwhile the days just go drifting away..."
"the only thing she said was she feels alot better and that's all that really matters to me."

Another weekend of snowplay!!!

Saturday at Gary and Joanne's (Ken's parents)
The snowbaby nestled in between the snowman and snowwoman (who later proudly displayed Donna's black bra - not the snowbaby but the snowwoman).
Miri kissing the snowbaby!!!

Snow-shoeing

Last weekend Kenny and I went snow-shoeing in back of his parents house in the wooded pine trees. It was beautiful!!! The only tracks in the snow were from the various critters abiding in the woods and the tracks that we made with our snowshoes. Minnesota is a truly lovely place especially in winter!!

The Magpie - Claude Monet

One of my favorite Monet paintings - "The Magpie". It's tranquility and peaceful elegance resemble our Minnesota landscape right now. As I look out our dining room window I can see the soft flecks of snow softly dancing in the sky. Reminds me of my time in Switzerland at L'Abri. I wrote a poem there. It goes like this:

The snow falls softly on this place

silently, while the village sleeps

The cows have gone

their bells no more are ringing.

The peace of this place

stills my heart, quiets my mind

even my soul at rest today

away from longing.

A gift is mine this early morn

indiscriminate in it's falling;

I think as if it falls for me

hope falls on me.

Becky - November 2001

Itchy, ucchy, blucky!

These pictures do not do Miri's allergic reaction justice. Our video camera takes lousy pictures and none of our other three cameras are working. Sooo.......we did not get any good pictures of Miri at the height of her allergic reaction to Amoxicillin, we did not get to show anyone images of Miri with her eyes so swollen shut that she could hardly see (poor babe). We did not get to show her edematous ankles and wrists looking quite disfigured. She looked so pathetic - her entire body covered with welts and red splotches. These pictures are the best that we have and although they lack in visual clarity they do show her sad state of itchiness. This poor child has in the last two weeks had a persistent cold with a fever, an ear and eye infection, an allergic reaction to amoxicillin, and has cut 4 molars. Needless to say, it has not been Miri's week! Becky

Another Day.

Just another day. Everyone seems to be in a funk. I wish we were here. Livingston, Montana - home away from home.

The Many Faces of Miri

Isn't she great!! This is what I love about kids - they are free of inhibitions, completely themselves, wonderfully animated. She is neither cynic nor skeptic, neither optimist nor pessimist, neither idealist nor realist - she's purely herself, free to be you and me, isn't that how the old 70's song goes? Now me on the other hand, I tend to be an optimistic realist with a hint of an idealistic mindset that sends me off in various directions and paths. But Miri, I love that she is none of these at this point in her life; I love that her emotions are so raw, that she can go from immense joy to complete frustration in a matter of seconds and that these emotions are in no way pretentious but in every way pure. Fresh from the hand of God is what I always say. I love that she kisses anyone who she says "night, night" to without discrimination, that she can carry on a dramatic and expressive conversation on the phone with no one at the other end, that she reads her books passionately as if she were preaching to a mass with her hand extended using the few words that she knows and making up the rest. I love her approach to life at this stage - arms extended to everything in her little world. "Let this beauty stay with her, let this freedom she posesses remain with her as she grows!" This is my prayer.

Although this brings me great joy I think that this is also the hardest and most painful part of motherhood - realizing that one day she will experience pain, rejection, criticism and that perhaps some of the freedoms that she has now may fade as she becomes self-aware. This makes me cry. The other day I looked intensely into her rich brown eyes while she ate her lunch and told her of my love for her, and God's too, but that she would one day experience pain and suffering (pretty pathetic, huh) as I cried I told her "Miri, but our hope is in Christ - that he will walk with us in our suffering." Somewhere in the middle of all of my blubbering she said "hmmm" rather pensively as if she were taking in every word her mama said and at the end of this I asked "do you understand?" to which she promptly and very seriously stated "Yah, Yah, Yah," with several quick nods. A wise little soul.

How does one maintain that innocence and freedom authentically? In some ways it's not wise to extend our arms wide open to the world but often we almost err on the opposite end. We become cynical of others - the news warps our sense of reality and we live with fear or mistrust. We develop various coping mechanisms - some healthy some not, and we become changed and/or guarded by our circumstances. We judge others and discriminate. As self-awareness settles in us we become more selfish knowingly. It is a constant challenge, perhaps an impossibility to return to the innocence that we all at one time shared. I guess my hope is that perhaps heaven will be this clean slate again with the returning to innocence exhibited by arms flailing and extended, running unabashed into the arms of Jesus - free once more.

Recent family pics

Heaven in a Pool

I tend to think too much. Because my mind is always thinking I am continually finding something to worry about. Unfortunately I have found that this habit causes me to spend my time in the present focusing on the past or future. Changing this tendency has not been easy. However, once in a while time stops and the present suddenly comes into focus.
Yesterday time stopped for a while. Or maybe real time started? We had our first water babies class at Harding High School for Miriam. Becky had signed me up to go into the water with Miri and like most things I complained a bit about doing something that was out of my routine. And I worried...Would I be the only father? Would I have to do something wierd? Where is my swimsuit?
A funny thing happened when we entered the pool with that small group of fellow water babies participants. Some of the kids were a little aprehensive, some clung to their mother's or father's neck, some broke a slight smile. However, Miriam was totally ecstatic. Now she always enjoyed taking a bath but this venture into a swimming pool brought out something different, pure joy. While she grinned from ear to ear she splashed repeatedly while neighboring babies looked over with faces of uncertainty. It was impossible not to get caught up in the joy and look to the side of the pool and share smiles with Becky. Parents who I wouldn't have talked with on the street corner were suddenly part of our community. Miriam was happy, I was happy, and the smiling woman on the side of the pool, who I married a little over three years ago, was happy. We were alive in the present.
I think times like these are the times we get a glimpse of God's time, eternity breaking into the present. The already-not yet of the christian faith. I think back to those playground days in elementary school, those long points in high school and college tennis, the pickup basketball game at the local park, dancing in the living room with Becky and Miriam while Jack Johnson plays on the cd player. Those all too rare of times when we get caught up in play and our focus on external time slips away. Worries slip away, our focus on careers, our security, our death, all the constant mental commentaries drift to the back of our consciousness.
For someone who struggles with living in the present it is good to have these sorts of experiences. In my life of thought I need to remember to play. To know that God is there in those special moments of joy in order to ease those times when life is painful, the days too long and the nights too short. I need to live in expectation that once in a while God may show up and help me live in the present. I just might experience heaven. Maybe even in a pool. Ken

Capote

Last night we picked up our third free movie in the last two months. We hardly rent movies anymore so The Movie Gallery called us for the third time to come in and get yet another free movie, not a bad deal. We rented Capote. The only thing that I knew about Truman Capote was that he wrote "Breakfast at Tiffany's" but I had no idea that the movie would cover his book "In Cold Blood". Anyone who knows me knows that I am very affected by the darkness of the world - images, even fictional ones, can stay with me for weeks. Stories of murder, rape, child molestation, etc can leave me disturbed for days. Now Kenny, on the other hand, likes haunting images to stay with him for days and weeks; he likes the intensity that a heavy movie can bring to life - making one feel deeply, breaking up the mundane and monotony. Anyway, for the most part I am left troubled by many movies that remind me too much of the news.

So we watched Capote - not graphically troubling but conceptually troubling and yet thoughtful. Capote, a bit odd himself, is drawn to this cold blooded murderer and in some ways identifies with him - at least one is left to believe this although Capote's character is somewhat ambiguous at times. After discussing a very difficult upbringing with this murderer and identifying with the murderer's own rough childhood, Capote says while confiding in his friend Nelle "we're not much different, it's like we grew up in the same home yet he went out the back door and I went out the front door." This quote has been stuck in my head. Perhaps it stems from my own 3 month study of suffering, questioning why suffering brings out amazing things in some folks but completely destroys others. A small choice becomes something like the continental divide sending one either of two very opposite directions. It fascinates me and completely leaves me perplexed at the same time.

I told my brother Matt the other day that during my senior year in college I was taking a class called "Christians Within Culture - An Original or a Photo Copy". The title gives it away but for those who may still wonder what we covered in class it was basically about being authentic - not your run of the mill cookie cutter Christian. Well, one day during class a friend of mine said to my professor in front of me "Becky is so nice" and my professor responded very seriously "I'll bet she's not as nice as you think". I was shocked - but at the same time I kind of thought after the initial daze wore off "how does he know!?" It's true - first of all what is niceness but something we label people who are agreeable to the point of sacrificing their own true integrity. It's not the same as kindness which doesn't always look nice. I'm sure in Rwanda their were many nice Christians who lived in harmony for a time until the anger about their different ethnicity's got the best of them and suddenly the "Christians" were axing their neighbors. This brings me back to the above thoughts - what makes us and what breaks us? When we are tested, truly tested in life by horrible events that touch us so deep or threaten us or our families will we then show real kindness, forgiveness, grace or will we show hatred, anger, betrayal. Will we go out the front door or the back? Just some random thoughts to get our blog started. Becky