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| Not You, But I
Gallery
statistics report that the average time a person spends looking at a
particular work of art is three seconds. I imagine to those who spend
their lives caring for the great art museums of world, this is a
disheartening sight. It would have been interesting to hear the
thoughts of the St. Petersburg curators who watched as Henri Nouwen sat
before Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son for more than four hours.
But isn't this a telling illustration of life? How
often we are like the three-second viewers, moving through our days
with our eyes barely open. We are surrounded by the presence of God,
but unaware and unseeing—missing, in our absence, the bigger picture.
One of the most powerful poems I have ever read begins, "Lord, not you,
it is I who am absent."
The parable of the prodigal
son is often viewed as a story that meets the experience of those who
have wandered from God in belief, in life, in obedience. It is often a
story that powerfully defines a particular time in our lives, a
momentous time of returning to faith, a time when we remember God's
grace personally and powerfully. But perhaps it is also a parable that
meets us in the daily struggle to see, to be present, to be conscious
of the presence of God in this place.
The parable
tells us that the wayward child had a plan for returning to his
father's house. He would confess his sin against heaven and against his
father and then ask to be treated as one of the hired servants. He
would work his way back into his father's life. But the father doesn't
even give him a chance to fully present the offer. Upon seeing his son,
the father says to his slaves, "'Quickly bring out the best robe and
put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet; and
bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for
this son of mine was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and
has been found.' And they began to celebrate" (Luke 15:22-25). With the
symbols of restoration, the father wholly embraces the son who was
lost.
Gripped by the intensity of the massive
painting before him, Nouwen found himself becoming "more and more part
of the story that Jesus once told and Rembrandt once painted." Yet in
Rembrandt's painting we do not find the father's eager rushing out to
greet his wayward son as described in the Gospel of Luke. Rather, we
find stillness. We find the parable's characters at rest. Rembrandt
slows our flickering minds to the scene that captures a thousand words
for our daily walk in faith. "Lord, not you, it is I who am absent."
The son has returned; he kneels before his father in his ragged shoes
and torn clothes, as he is: the one who insisted upon defining himself
apart from his father, the one who was absent. As the son was in
pursuit of life beyond his father, he lost sight of life itself. It is
in seeing himself as he is, that the son also sees the father more
clearly.
In the parable of the prodigal son Jesus
reminds us that our heavenly father grieves over our wandering hearts
and minds, moving in grace to embrace those who long to see. He is the
God who runs to greet his child. He is the God who is there.
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|
hope
of healing
Healing
has been rekindled
in this
heart.
the thought of
being cleansed
spiritually cleansed
transformed
here on earth
Realizing that thorns
are not
a
Meant to be.
..
that healing in His
Hands
does not have to wait
until we are faced to face
before the Lord.
This Thought.
Truth.
is beginning to
set me free.
from my own chains
a little more
than I have lived yesterday.
The power of His Words
breezed past my face
and tucked me in
to a gentle comfort
the same way a Father who loves eternally
would smooth out
the child's tear of last resort,
walking beside a little one
with a spirit of little growth and direction.
John chpt 5 was powerful
in my heart today.
the man speaks of the one thing on his mind
while Christ relieves an undeserving soul of
aimless cleansing.
A tsunami of emotions are going through me.
joy intertwined with
pain.
Can it be true?
That though Jesus
did not come primarily
to Heal the sick,
the broken,
the sinful,
and distressed
He
the Lord
still chooses to Heal them.
Regardless?
Lord,
Help me to rejoice in Truth.
I feel it is far from my heart.
It is easier to remain in hopelessness sometimes.
I confess my unbelief.
Please forgive me for believing
only in the current tides before me.
I am living a lie
that strives to find contentment in only
the things I can see.
My eyes have stopped dreaming for you.
How can you love me still.
It causes me to weep like a child again
to know
that you have not forgotten me.
Regardless.
Thank you, Father.
for calling us to live Lives of discipleship
within community!
Lives
that are fully alive in You.
Hallelujah
to the Lord of heaven
And earth.
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| At home after a long hard week.
and my 8th graders have . well.. been good.
relatively.
on Fridays during lunch, the middle school teachers like to gather
and chat for about 20 minutes on strategies.
Strategies for how we may better "discipline."
After all,
MS is 80% that.
and 15% teaching.
we have no idea what happens to the other 5%.
perhaps it evaporates.
as does their memory for what they have learned the day before.
as does our patience for their inappropriate behavior and attitude.
I sat there today
just thinking about the upcoming art show on thursday evening.
and how far they have come since the 7th grade last year.
This is only my 4th year teaching and 2nd at my current school,
but here is a break down of my observations of each grade "culture."
=======
6th grade: mild tempered for the most part (well. compared to the 7th ,8th graders) want to please teacher,
boys can be either sensitive or aggressive, depending on how they have adjusted from 5th grade. girls tend to be
steady, emotionally, academically. more so than the boys.
===
7th: crazy energy up the wazoo. sometimes i think their parents feed them 3 pop tarts each morning. fun loving, but very absentminded about occurrences outside their own body and mind. (though there are always exceptions, of course)
===
8th: (depending on the culture of the class) but for the most part, they begin climbing down from their climax of ridiculous energy and silliness. They become more.. don't know how else to say it. manipulative and prideful (since they are now the big fish of the middle school.) Trouble created and hatred spread is mostly due to cliques and desire to be the leader or a part of the group that seems to see potential in them. The in-betweens are fine with just being left alone. As long as they are not the last ones standing when group projects take place.
===
9th: ah. High school. you are now officially a cool person. well. in the eyes of your parents. which doesn't mean much. while you are at school, it is survival of the fittest.
yeah. life pretty much sucks for the majority.
Little fish again, for the most part, their energy is spent on maintaining this new balance.
For girls, it is friends, academics, extra curricular activities, sports, friends, oo. make up, looking like the 11th graders, getting noticed by the boys, and friends.
For most boys. it's all about your posse. oh. and the pretty female others.
The "backbone"(or lack of) within the leadership of their posse determines how they view authority and self.
===
10th: okay. strap down. if you messed up 9th grade, here is your chance to make a difference. either that or get completely immersed in sports, theater, etc. if this is where identity/confidence/praise is found. The soon to be leaders of this class will often begin to emerge more clearly at this point.
===
11th: life sucks. in a good way if you have support from friends, family, a community of some sort. In a very destructive spiraling kind of way if role models have not been set in place in the years past.(esp. boys) Something about this stressful age period tends to bring out their worst demons. Adults are either in or out within their coded world of angst.
===
12th: "(curse word. curse word, curse word.)-- are we done yet!?! please send me the (#$%) acceptance letter!" or reject me (in which life would be completely and utterly over, some of them claim.)
It's: do I really need to go for more schooling?
Or: I can't wait to get out of here and go (there).
Prom.
prom. and prom.
===========
yeah.
reliving these days as I observe
brings me either great pain
or great joy.
joy that I've come out alive and (on some days) well.
never a boring day.
but I'm ready for summer break.
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| beyond what tired feels like.
it's odd though.
I've been waking up an hour before my alarm.
I used to be able to sleep through fire alarms right next to me
now,
I leave my cell on vibrate
and it wakes me up.
is it anxiety
or
fear.
or just simply old age.
it's been friday for four days now
and i am tired of this.
not life,
but this.
I'm not sure what this
is.
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