shalom, my good friends

over at avtcoach and octamom, i read about choosing a word for the new year, as a way to orient my heart and my focus. i love this idea. i'm not an especially disciplined person, and resolutions don't motivate me. i don't typically make it into february with any intact, but the idea of a theme word is something that resonates with me, because i know how powerful words can be.

i've been wounded and wearied by careless words, and i've hurt too many with mine. i've drunk deeply from the refreshment that an encouraging word can bring. words have tremendous power, which is why gender-inclusive language, abstaining from using "gay," "ghetto," and "retarded" as pejorative slang, and saying "child with autism" instead of "autistic child" are not at all about being politically correct but rather acknowledging the power of words to both communicate and create reality.

consider this: God spoke the universe into existence. his words called forth life and matter out of nothing! when john's gospel introduces Jesus, he is called the Word: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. (John 1:1)

first century readers would have recognized that by calling Jesus the Word, john is equating Jesus with God, the Creator. john is clear that Jesus is no mere rabbi; God is doing a radical new thing in Christ: The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14)

back in the garden, adam and eve walked with God, but then sin broke their fellowship with one another and with God. john's gospel announces that, amazingly, God the Word is once again making his home among people. the need for a priestly mediator between a sinful people and a holy God is coming to an end, because the Word will again be about the work of creation--recreating hearts, relationships, and communities so broken and distorted by sin.

potentially creative and redemptive power lives within words, and recognizing this, the word i'd like to shape my year around is "shalom," the hebrew word for peace. not merely peace as in the absence of war or tension, the shalom of God embodies wholeness, restoration, and the making right of all things. [the idea of shalom reminds me much of the line in the musical, RENT: "the opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation!"]

shalom can be found independent of the day's stresses and worries, because it rests in the knowledge that God is sovereign, God is good, and God is at work. all too often, i allow myself to be tossed in the turbulent waves emotion, discontent that life isn't meeting my every selfish desire and expectation. i know that shalom, like joy, is not based on circumstances, and can be found entirely independent of how much sleep i've had or how lonely or loved i am feeling.

because Jesus is the Word, i know that in choosing the word "shalom" to guide my steps in this new year, i am not alone in my striving, thus setting myself up for disappointment. philippians 2:12-13 instructs, "continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose." it is my desire to consciously allow God to work in me and through me, transforming me by his grace (not my effort) into the woman he created me to be.

i want to allow God the space to develop shalom in my life by growing in the disciplines of prayer, meditation, and spending time in the Word. (Lord, forgive me for filling my days with words and noise, while neglecting your life-giving Word in scripture and presence in silence.) i know that shalom is not something i can cultivate through willpower; it is gained by obedience to God, service to others, and surrender of my selfish strivings and need for things to center around me.

You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you. (Isaiah 26:3)

This is what the LORD says— your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: "I am the LORD your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go. If only you had paid attention to my commands, your peace would have been like a river, your righteousness like the waves of the sea. (Isaiah 48:17-18).

May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen. (Hebrews 13:20-21)

may God's great shalom guard our hearts, encourage our spirits, and guide our feet as we walk in his ways this year.

do you want to be made well?

While knowledge and truth can be found anywhere, the kind of wisdom that leads to shalom is indigenous to the margins, among "the least," forgotten, and last. Those who know the way to peace and healing are the ones whose bodies, like Christ's, bear scars of others' war-making. Any who sit at empires' thrones feasting on its spoils cannot lead us into justice. The powerful offer up all sorts of expertise, but paths to peace they do not know.

Peacemaking is not a top-down operation, nor does its wisdom flow from center to margin. Peace is forged through conflict (not around), and the way to communal well-being and wholeness is paved with all sorts of interpersonal discomfort, tension, and sweat. Justice cannot roll until subtle and glaring hierarchies and broken systems are identified and ripped out. 

And that much-lauded (and alarmingly misunderstood) rebuilding work of crafting something just and new? It, too, is rooted firmly in Wisdom from the margins! The top and center are architects and upholders of injustice, well practiced in the status quo affirming appearance of peace, but rarely the presence of Kingdom-of-God shalom. Despisers of the critical work of dismantling oppressive systems are incapable of building anything truly new; they lack the empathy, will, and imagination to envision and create alternate paths. Resurrection wisdom lives at the margins, where Jesus anchored his own life and ministry alongside fishermen, lepers, women, peasants, the colonized, unqualified, Samaritans, sinners, and sick.

Peacemaking is the sort of messy work from which many would rather run, particularly those of us benefiting from How Things Are [Unjust]. Privileged voices are quick to paint protesters, critics, and marginalized bodies as disturbers of a peace which does not yet exist. It's a tricky game, with clear winners and losers, actual shalom being the latter.

But we can't hope to take part in fixing what's broken if we refuse to recognize the depths of what's wrong, and that requires going to the margins and sitting at the feet of people the majority are most accustomed to demonizing and writing off.

Until Christians hear and heed Wisdom from the margins, we actively stand in the way of peace, no matter how "gracious" and gentle our words or noble our intentions. Civility is a tool of empire, defined by power and expertly wielded against those who step out of line or refuse the terms of their faux-peace. The Kingdom of God springs up out of far deeper, more fertile soil--and on the backs of none.

So many Christian voices claim--and honestly desire--to be on the side of Jesus, justice, and peace, but shalom wholeness requires a radical de-centering of power, the active subversion of hierarchical systems, and a good bit more staying in our own lanes.

White people can't know the first thing about dismantling racism unless we are sitting at the feet of Black people and other people of color. Men who refuse to learn from and defer to women are incapable of leading anywhere just, no matter how impressive their CVs. Straight and cisgender opinions on homosexuality, marriage equality, transgender identity, and intersex bodies aren't nearly as helpful (or faithful) as many imagine. Edgy tattoos and good book reviews are clanging cymbals accompanied by discrediting survivors and sheltering powerful friends. People who are depressed, in recovery, marginalized, and hurting have a great deal to teach the rest of us about a God who is near to the brokenhearted, but we can't receive their wisdom if we're so busy blaming them for harshing our happy vibe.

It's not the healthy who need a doctor but the sick.

Many Christians are so accustomed to seeing ourselves as the healthy bringers of a gospel of wellness to a sin-sick world, but we're just as sick as anyone. (And we're not the doctor in this metaphor, either, particularly when our actions and neglect contribute to making our neighbors sick!) We trust a pallid gospel of go-to-heaven-when-you-die, but the "personal" Savior Christians claim inaugurates systemic, all-things-made-new, salvific work among and within our communities here and now. We are saved together for greater works than these.

Do you want to be made well? 

Well, do we? We've got to acknowledge the depth of sickness in our systems as much as our hearts, and we can't expect the same voices who taught us hierarchy and complacence to lead us out into wholeness. De-throne the experts: shalom-deep wisdom resides at the margins, with the suffering and bruised.

There, among the despised and rejected, we'll finally and fully encounter the Man of Sorrows we've long claimed to follow. And only there, together, will we be healed.

image source

shalom & restoring identity {guest post Kamille Scellick}

Kamille has an uncommon and much needed vision for hospitality and community, and I hope one day that my travels takes me to Bellingham and her table. We met at Relevant last year, and a few hours together weren't nearly enough. I'm grateful to have her share words here.

Dark corners in my life creep out without notice or permission. As I'm sitting, walking, and going along my day, I'm hit with a sense of distress, a suffocation that begins in my toes and slowly makes its way to my neck. 

I feel overwhelmed and disconnected--with being a mom, a wife, with simply being. I want to run far away, but even that can't stop the disjointed feeling within.

Both girls napped that Saturday while I folded laundry with Ben by my side. My fuse was super short, and I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew something was out of balance. I began to tell Ben about my frustrations. How I felt like I was endlessly working and not being appreciated. How I felt the weight of expectations that were unfair and even unrealistic. As I talked, it was as if I were Eustace in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, clawing away to release myself from this metaphorical dragon skin. Peeling away layers to find the core of the issue at hand, the cause of my suffocation.

Two truths emerged. One was what Ben said: "You don't have to be Supermom, Superwife, or super anything. Remember what Rob Bell wrote about, 'You need to take your Superwhatever out back and kill it.'"

The second was me realizing I simply needed grace.

In Velvet Elvis, Rob Bell writes about a time his church was growing yet he found himself in a closet between  services holding his keys, wondering how quickly he could get out of there. He felt suffocated from trying to do it all. He was trying to be Superpastor.

No one can survive living a facade for long.

Bell writes about the tzitzit in Numbers 15, which are the tassels on the corners of the garment. The Israelites were to wear these tassels as a physical reminder to remember the commands of the Lord when they looked upon them. To remember where they came from, who they were made to be, and how they were meant to live life.

As a good Torah-abiding Jew, Jesus would have been wearing tzitzit on his prayer shawl when the woman who was bleeding for twelve years touched the corner of his garment. After she is healed, Jesus sends her off with this blessing: "Go in Peace."

To know peace is to know restoration. Jesus doesn't give us peace without conflict--it's deeper than that. Jesus told me that Saturday, today, and constantly:

Kamille, go in peace. Know shalom. Walk in the total presence of my restoring, redemptive peace I've given on the cross. Not just in physical realities like the woman I healed, but mental, emotional, all-encompassing peace. Let all of you be restored.

This is the holistic beauty of the cross.

Salvation is more than simply saying a prayer; it's allowing Jesus to move through all of me. To experience shalom in all that I do. It's the restoration of all things through Jesus. On Saturday, my way of doing things was breaking down. I had this image in my head of what "spiritual" looked like, what a "good" mom looked like, what a "loving" wife looked like. Bell says:

there is always a mystery behind the mystery...we try to fix things, but we stop at the first or second layer. We're stressed and so we make adjustments in time management. But a better question is, why do I take on so much? But an even better question is, why is it so hard for me to say no? Or even, why is that person's approval so important to me?

It's not until we dig up everything that we discover the core problem: walking away from Shalom and walking in sin, which for me looks like believing a lifetime of lies about myself. I believed in the facade of who I thought I should be, and that's an insult to the creative God who made me.

My job is not supermom, superwife, superbaker, superdaughter, superfriend, or whatever super-fill-in-the-blank false self I put on. I need to kill the "super" image, to rest in God alone and get back to finding my identity in Him. 

I need my own tzitzit reminders to bring me back to the restoring grace and love of my Savior. I need to turn down the volume of every voice distracting me from my job, "the relentless pursuit of who God has made me to be."

I have a long way to go in this journey, but I'm hopeful and I pray: may each of us put to death our own superwhatevers to experience true shalom and restoration.


Kamille Scellick passionately believes that gathering around the table is where the body, mind & soul will be nourished. It's around the table where you're sure to find her on any given day...eating, talking, listening & sharing life with her husband, Ben & two girls. She believes in life-giving hospitality Jesus style and sees his redemption being offered through it. Her greatest achievement is knowing she is extending this hospitality first & foremost to her family and then to others. You can find her sharing stories, hospitality, food and life with friend & stranger at her blog, Redeeming the Table. You’re invited to pull up a chair & sup with her.

shared with the folks at imperfect prose.

shabbat shalom

On the seventh day He rested.

Did it take a toll,
the crafting of creation
universe-shaping
calling forth Something
out of Nothing?

Did You rest to show us How
Or was it Why?

To pause.

to revel in the work of Your Hands
to delight in the Good and the Very Good.

On the seventh day we rest, as well.

Babies and garden need tending still
but many hands make such care light.
we revel in the work of our hands
(and Yours)

We pause.

we tarry over breakfast:
eggs fresh, jam sweet, coffee hot.

we load bags and bikes and country-drive
the day is cool, path straight
through bridges high and forest green

rain falls softy, misting skin 'neath canopy of trees

Listen. Baby giggles, silly songs
"faster, daddy, faster!"
wheels spin, pedals push
river rushes, muffling rafters' joyful cheers

Look. Four wide eyes peer out from trailer window
sibling smiles spread to passers-by
mushrooms spiral trees and tiny
frogs play hopscotch in our path

Breathe.  Rhododendron and rain
perfume the air.  inhale the quiet
drink deeply from the fountain of Rest

this recreation {Re-Creation!}
is Good
the very Shalom of God.

    You will go out in joy
       and be led forth in peace;
       the mountains and hills
       will burst into song before you,
       and all the trees of the field
       will clap their hands.  (Isaiah 55:12)

linked up with bigger picture moments hosted this week by hyacynth at undercover mother, as well as imperfect prose by emily at in the hush of the moon.  visit them to read more or join in.

shabbat shalom

On the seventh day He rested.

(Did it take a toll, the 
crafting of creation
universe-shaping
calling forth Something
out of Nothing?

Did You rest to show us
How, or was it Why?)

To pause. Selah.

To revel in the work of Your Hands,
delighting in what's Good indeed.

On the seventh day we rest as well.

Babies and garden need tending still,
but many hands make such care light.
We revel in the work of our hands,

and Yours. Co-laborers, we

pause. Selah.

Tarrying over breakfast:
eggs fresh, jam sweet, coffee hot.

Loading bags and bikes, we country-drive.
The day is cool, path straight through 

bridges high and forest green. Rain falls 

softy, misting skin 'neath canopy of trees.

Listen. Baby giggles, silly songs,
"Faster, Daddy, faster!" Wheels spin, 

pedals push and river rushes, muffling 

rafters' lively cheers below.

Look. Four wide eyes peer from trailer 

window, sibling smiles spread fast to 

passers-by. Mushrooms spiral trees and 

tiny frogs play hopscotch through our path.

Breathe. Rhododendron and rain perfume 

the air. Inhale the quiet, drink deeply from

fountains of Rest. This re-creation is good 

indeed, the very Shalom of God.

Another throwback post, this one from three summers past. Happy Sabbath, friends. Rest ye well.

shabbat shalom

digging this poem out of the archives:  my favorite bigger picture moment of the year.

happy birthday, bigger picture blogs.

On the seventh day He rested.

Did it take a toll,
the crafting of creation
universe-shaping
calling forth Something
out of Nothing?

Did You rest to show us How
Or was it Why?

To pause.

to revel in the work of Your Hands
to delight in the Good and the Very Good.

On the seventh day we rest, as well.

Babies and garden need tending still
but many hands make such care light.
we revel in the work of our hands
(and Yours)

We pause.

we tarry over breakfast:
eggs fresh, jam sweet, coffee hot.

we load bags and bikes and country-drive
the day is cool, path straight
through bridges high and forest green

rain falls softy, misting skin 'neath canopy of trees

Listen.
Baby giggles, silly songs
"faster, daddy, faster!"
wheels spin, pedals push
river rushes, muffling rafters' joyful cheers

Look.
Four wide eyes peer out from trailer window
sibling smiles spread to passers-by
mushrooms spiral trees and tiny
frogs play hopscotch in our path

Breathe.
Rhododendron and rain
perfume the air.  inhale the quiet
drink deeply from the fountain of Rest

this recreation {re-creation!}
is Good
the very Shalom of God.

empire and shalom (afterword to our privilege conversation)

I published my post on privilege around dinnertime on Thurday and went straight to bed with the flu. When I woke up it had already become one of my most-read posts in nearly five years of blogging. To characterize the response as overwhelming doesn't come close to describing the way I'm still reeling.

Something in our discussion here touched a nerve, reverberating well beyond this little community. God knows that social media can bring out the worst, but the internet can be remarkably democratizing, too. Thousands inclined their ear our way, toward the frustrations and hopes for the Church held by mostly unpastor-y sorts following Jesus down unspectacular (and sometimes Lego-littered) paths.

We are, of course, the Church, too, and the conversation happening over at Homebrewed Christianity makes me wonder if I hear the rumblings of change afoot. I hope we do.

Although I like to fancy myself as something of a peacemaker (no, seriously), apparently I can be a bit of a shit-stirrer, too. My post was not met without controversy, and I want to clarify one thing. The crux of my thesis was that we cannot build the Kingdom of God with the tools of Empire and privilege. Yes, I offered a feminist critique of online emerging church culture, but I wrote it not to start a witch hunt (!) but to question the ways we enthrone worldly power and hierarchy within church and Christian culture.

I don't question anyone's motives and used the language of privilege specifically to argue that the harmful messages we send are largely unconscious. But inadvertent patriarchy is still patriarchy, and meaning well alone won't engage more voices, dismantle inequalities, or bring about the shalom we seek.

I wrote about gender privilege because that is the particular hierarchy to which I am especially sensitive (because of my own privilege), but it is only one aspect of the larger problem of inequality in the Church. We are all complicit in structures that foster injustice. I am complicit, too. My goal was never to drag anyone through the mud but to expose privilege as a component of social sin and systemic violence.

Do your hearts burn with this, too? I wanted to highlight a few (more) voices who are encouraging me along this way (and would love to hear yours, too).

Do you read Kathy Escobar, a pastor with the prophetic imagination for such a time as this?

to me, power is a combination of leadership, value, voice, and resource.

when it comes to “the church” i think we have a really jacked up system related to power. we have adopted the ways of the world and the methods of businesses as our central practices instead of the beatitudes. and even though a lot of people with power are taking more and more about “kingdom living”, often, they are perpetuating the same old power structures

Have you read Adam McHugh's Introverts in the Church? This book provides incredible affirmation to many who have felt less-than as Christians for not being the "best" kind of leader or having the "right" personality or gifts.

I can't stop talking about it. Adam provides an invigorating challenge that I believe pertains to this conversation, especially with regard to the narrow way we often conceive of leadership as a Church, some of what we're missing, and how we might grow as a Body. He interviewed dozens of introverts and pastors, and although he never makes a big deal of it, his story and research are woven with the perspectives and struggles of many women in ministry. It was profoundly encouraging to me as an introvert (and eye-opening to me as a verbal processor married to an internal processor). It should probably be required reading for everyone in church leadership and anyone who loves an introvert or cares about community.

I mentioned these at my post for Ed Cyzewski's non-fiction series, but another book that rocked me this year was Beauty Will Save the World by Brian Zahnd. It will mess you up, and you'll never imagine Jesus, the gospel, empire, or violence the same way again. It's an important read.

Now I want to put it to you. Where do you think we go from here?

"Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can here her breathing." -Arundhati Roy

grace like legalism, peace like fighting well

My mother loved the 700 Club, but she's always been a hippie at heart.

I suspect that parenting (and geography) partially explain how I was raised within conservative Christianity but escaped its frequently associated legalism. Faith in Christ was never about rules in the communities I grew up in or the ministries we've served in as adults. Christianity was as simple and as difficult as following after Jesus. It wasn't until I started writing about faith online that I realized how rare that experience can be, and I am tremendously grateful to my family and faith communities for modeling something better.

We all know how damaging works-based religion can be. We've seen with our eyes and felt in our bodies the havoc it can wreck. Legalism creates fearful perfectionists, punishing questioners and specific sinners more than others. It drives some into rebellion, never to return to a faith so small and sharp. Others come back bearing wounds and shame that rules alone can never heal.

Legalism is the antithesis of grace, bearing little resemblance to Jesus' ministry or the path he calls us to follow him down. Recovering fundamentalists and progressive-leaning folks, for what little those labels are worth, have been voices of love and correction to a gospel that is less than Good News.

But I'm noticing something strange from my insider/outsider perspective: the anti-legalism crowd can be just as prone to rigid rules. Their rules are of a different stripe, but they can be every bit as damaging. Recently, these two have become plain:

1.)  Favor unflinching support for the guilty/penitent (and powerful) over healthy community boundaries and caring for the vulnerable.

2.)  Insist that all criticism is "un-grace," rooted in sin or hate.

Neither of these "rules" makes sense or looks at all like the ministry of Jesus.

Relevant Magazine, a well-read website among Christian twenty-somethings and beyond, recently published an article about gender and sexuality by Hugo Schwyzer, a man with an admitted history/[present, 2013] of predatory behavior and violence against women, sustained antagonism toward women of color, and a current writing resume (Jezebel, etc.) that would disgust most Christians. They did so without disclosure or apology. Complaints were raised and a conversation introduced about how to demonstrate grace to abusers without re-victimizing people or silencing dissent, but none of that happened at Relevant, as they deleted a number of dissenting comments and defended their author. I emailed them concerns and never heard back.

Christians know that God's grace cannot be earned and is given freely. We should proclaim from the rooftops and by the lives we lead that all are loved and made in God's image, and that all can find forgiveness, freedom, and purpose in Christ. This is the gospel, and it is good news for all of us sinners, including Schwyzer and other abusers of power and people.

But grace does not eliminate consequences for sin--or abuse. Often love looks like accountability, especially for people who hold positions of leadership or authority. Love looks like protecting vulnerable people from harm.

Grace never means that anyone is entitled to a mic, a platform, or a public ministry. Grace is the opposite of entitlement. Using grace to claim privilege or to favor the powerful over the hurting isn't grace at all--it's oppression-as-usual for the sin-soaked empire and out of place in the Kingdom of God. Authentic redemption and community healing cannot play out of the backs of the hurting or abused.

Christian community may offer forgiveness and still withhold positions of authority from certain members. Grace and accountability are not mutually exclusive. The privilege and responsibility of public leadership is not a birthright. Grace is free, but trust is earned and lost, sometimes irrevocably.

Criticism can be handled with grace. Some battles aren't worth choosing, but we don't get to decide that for one another, and there is space to wrestle through hard things within Christian community. Accountability is necessary and vastly preferable to faux peace or abuse-enabling.

Speaking truth-in-love is a delicate, difficult balance to strike. Favoring one over the other is an easy trap, but Jesus is Truth, God is Love, and there is no other way for Christians called by Christ's name.

What if peace isn't the absence--or squelching--of conflict? Disagreement is, after all, inevitable. Community life is considerably less pleasant in practice than our romantic ideals betray. Can shalom be found in the fight? Reconciliation is hard work, and I suspect that love requires digging in as much as letting go. Let's do it with grace, yes. But perhaps our concepts of grace are both too broad and too narrow.

So we take our cues from Jesus and his upside-down, last-shall-be-first Kingdom. We bind up broken hearts and push back the darkness clinging stubbornly to even our best intentions and sweetest sounding words. We incline our ears to stories from the margins and repent of every rule that chokes out the shalom we long to reveal in our midst and our ministries.

The work will be slow and difficult, but when we taste the fruits of grace and peace, we won't settle for counterfeits any longer.

we are pierced women {guest post Osheta Moore}

Our paths crossed in an online group of faith writers, and I am continuously struck by the boldness and vulnerability Osheta brings to the page, particularly when she's writing about race, faith, and family. She is a woman who loves Jesus deeply, and her blog, Shalom in the City, is one to watch--a breath of hope in a world of cynicism.

This month on my blog, I’ve been writing about finding my tribe. I’ve never thought about a community of like-minded women as a tribe before, but there’s something fitting about this word that takes its roots in the primitive, organic, and ancient. To be a tribe means to push pass the excess to the essential of who we are and what we stand for.

So my thirty-one days have been on “finding my tribe”, my community who pushes pass the excess to the essentials of Jesus, his life, ministry, and death. Every time I wrote the word, “tribe”, certain images and sounds filled my mind.

I heard vibrant, welcoming, rhythmic beating of drums. I felt the heat from a gathering fire as women dance with abandon, laugh from their bellies, and wet the shoulders of their fellow tribeswomen with cleansing tears. At the word, “tribe”, I pictured sable beauties with shorn hair and fascinating markings on their strong bodies. I see women with interesting piercings, naked and unashamed with their tribeswomen.

And that’s the image that drove my series—a tribe of women so committed to Jesus that we’re willing to be inconvenienced, uncomfortable, and forever changed. Like Jesus, who for love was pierced to stand in solidarity with us, I want to be a woman who loves the women in my life well enough that I am willing to be pierced for them.

Last Friday, for her seventh birthday, after a month of pleading and promising that she was ready, I took my daughter to get her ears pierced. Then, much to her delight, I would get my nose pierced.

But my bold and brazen daughter, who can put her brothers in their place with a well-executed eye roll, stood outside the shop and said, “Mama? I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”

After a few hugs and promises that I was with her, and even I was a little afraid, she straightened her spine, shyly smiled, and said, “Let's do this.”

That’s my brave girl! I remember holding her hand as our sexy-chic body art practitioner, who noticed her telltale shaky breaths and nervous fidgeting, knelt down and said, “Girl, you’ve got this” to my little woman-child. “When I’m done with you, it’s going to be so cute, you won’t believe it.”

He winked up at me, and I wondered, ‘How does he get his eyeliner to do that?’

Sitting in his chair as he prepped to pierce, my daughter and I held each other. I could feel her heart beating, yet she smiled and played with my hoop earrings.

“Okay, girls” Sexy-Chic began, “I’m going to count to three. When I get to three, breath in, and when I tell you to… breath out.” He positioned the pink tourmaline stud on my baby’s right ear and gave me another wink over her head.

“1…2…3…” he said confidently, and we breathed in together. “ Now exhale,” and as we breathed out in unison, the stud pierced my daughter, marking that moment with both beauty and pain.

We did the same for her left side, sharing breaths and twitches that reminded of me the hours after her birth when she slept on my chest, twitching and breathing with an exhausted me.

Then we did my piercing, and when she saw tears flowing down my cheek, Trinity handed me a tissue while Sexy-Chic cleaned me up promising, “She’s alright, boo. But isn’t your mama’s nose so cute?!”

Today she remembers our piercing date as fun mommy/daughter activity. And it was, but one day when she’s older, maybe on her thirteenth birthday or when she gets her period, I’m going to sit her down and show her this outing in a different light. I’m going give her a pair of hoop earrings—her first pair and teach her about being a Pierced Woman.

Maybe this first pair will be large beaded silver and gold hoops like the ones she’s eyeing in my jewelry drawer now, or maybe they’ll be simple white gold that goes with everything. They’ll probably be made my refugee artisans as this Tribe, this Jesus Tribe, cares about women globally.

They’ll definitely be chosen with love and care because this lesson is one I want her to hold onto.

I’ll sit across from her, who somehow has become more woman than child, and ask her if she remembers when we got pierced together. And then I’ll tell her,

“Trinity, these hoops are for you. Every time you wear them, I want you to think of Jesus who was pierced for us out of his great love for all people. His love is as never-ending as this hoop is round. When you go to wear them, remember, just as He was pierced for us, so we must be pierced for him and press into the hard of being a Jesus follower, baby.

"When you go to match these hoops with your outfit, remember that this Jesus Tribe is diverse and beautiful and quirky and fun, so take chances. Wear them against an odd color or different texture. Celebrate the different. Remember how Jesus was pierced to bring unity among diversity. This is what we pierced women do, baby: we love the diversity and defend the unity.

"When you put these on, remember how we held each other while you were oh so afraid of the pain of the piercings, and ask Jesus to help you hold your friends when they are afraid. This is what we pierced women do: we hold the terrified in our strong, capable arms since we know what it’s like to be afraid.

"Trinity, I give you these hoops and I hope you remember that I, too, was pierced with you. This is also what we do—we are pierced women who love the pierced King, and we stand with one another through celebration and pain. Just as we both celebrated your seventh birthday and shared in the pain of our piercings, celebrate with your friends and share in their pain. Listen to their keening cries that pierce your eardrums when her heart breaks. Hold her hand and let nails leave marks on yours as she bears the weight of sorrow. And somehow find a way to share in her pain. This is what is means to be a pierced woman.

"And when the usurper of relationships comes to cause you to doubt if your tribeswomen have your back, remember the times they were pierced for you. Go back to your ugly cries on their shoulders and the late night with Ben and Jerry’s. Place your fingers in those holes in your soul left by your tribe’s love, and like doubting Thomas, remember that You. Are. Known.”

And someday when she’s moved away and maybe has a daughter of her own, I hope she comes across those hoops while rummaging through her jewelry box. I hope smiles as she remembers Sexy-Chic and his amazing eyeliner. I pray she remembers how her birthstone just happened to be her favorite color—pink. I pray she remembers being held in my arms, trembling and sharing anxious breaths. Then maybe, she’ll puts those hoops on and ask Jesus, “Lord, help me be a pierced woman today.”

Hi, my name is Osheta. I’m an Assembly-of-God-Methodist-Southern-Baptist-a-teryn turned Anabaptist. I love Jesus who is THE MOST scandalously loving person to walk the face of the earth. I love to dance and you can find me doing the Robot with my husband and three kids in our tiny apartment in Boston. Someday...somehow...somewhere I will be in a flash mob. All the better if we dance to Michael Jackson's "Thriller"! When I'm not dancing, I'm planting a church with my husband, writing on my blog, Shalom in the City, or watching "Pride and Prejudice" for the eleventy billionth time. 

let love grow

i love the new year. the romance of a fresh start in the bleak mid winter beats back-to-school shoes every time. possibility whispers my name as crisp new calendars replace the ragged, and i'm enough of an idealist to believe that it's never too late to be the change.

discipline and intentionality are both areas where i desire growth  this dawning year, but ultimately, the word that best captured my heart's cry is Love.

is there anything so simple or radical?

there are no short cuts in Love. God knows i love the short cuts, but this year, i'm taking the long way: the one that serves and gives and hopes and protects and reflects the very image of God.

that Way.

i know that my own love is insufficient. my love has limits. most days, my selfishness is bigger than my love.

but God's Love is big. his Love is transforming this world and this heart, and his power is made perfect amid weakness.  he is faithful to complete the good work begun in us. i'm leaning into that promise.

in 2012, i'm leaning into Love.

Let love and faithfulness never leave you; 

   bind them around your neck, 

   write them on the tablet of your heart.

{Proverbs 3:3}  

shalom 2009

cultivate 2010

upward. outward. do the work. 2011

{image source}

want to link a favorite post to my 2011 best-of linky?  are you a new year's fan or not?  did you pick a word for 2012?

happy new year!

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the peace of putting it out there

If you know me at all, you know this: I am not an organized person. Perennially late, I tend to show up with wet hair, if I've managed to shower at all. I prefer to keep things casual, not making many plans or lists.

This lead to a sort of epiphany recently:

The opposite of being a control freak isn't being laid back, it's being out of control.

If I'm honest, I'm closer to that end of the spectrum more often than I care to admit.

And that is the genesis of these 31 Days to Practice Peace. I may write my heart here about peace and justice, but peace can be far from my home because of my own lack of discipline.

So, I'm taking on some new practices, setting steps along another course. I have some more great guest posters lined up who will write on the big work of shalom, but my words here may be smaller, more personal. 

This peace we're making, like yeast or mustard, grows of humble origins, transforming simple people and complex systems.

Grateful to walk this road together. Happy Saturday, friends.

If you are writing a 31 Days series, would you let us know so that we can stop by?

the peace of being saved by Story {guest post Amy Peterson}

Amy and I crossed paths because of the Festival of Faith and Writing last spring (and later found our our sisters worship at the same church!) Smart and passionate, Amy writes (and teaches) about faith and pop culture, as well as motherhood and making all things new. This post is challenging and beautiful, and I'm so glad to host her words here. Welcome, Amy.

In Ezekiel, God condemns the false prophets who cry, “Peace!” when there is no peace.

Am I that false prophet?

My husband and I, we are peace-lovers by nature. We are quiet, we move slowly through ideas and emotions, we usually agree. We are far from perfect, but there is true peace in our household, even while I am stepping on legos, hands full of dishes, and Jack is playing chase the preschooler with the toddler riding on his shoulders.

We rent a house in a small town in the cornfields of the Midwest, cloistered in a Christian college community. We spend our evenings tired, writing songs, sewing scraps together, and watching far too much tv.

Sometimes I wonder: Do the daily routines of my peaceful life imply–falsely--that I live in a peaceful world, no battles left to fight? Have I created a life so protected that I can deceive myself into thinking that everything is alright?

Does anything in my day point prophetically to the deep brokenness of our world, and to a great Healer? Does anything in my life acknowledge the global realities of war, famine, disease, persecution, and poverty, or do I live as if those things don’t exist?

Am I living a life that effectively proclaims “peace” when there is none?

I like to think that small things in my life do point to the realities of our broken world and our great Healer. That when we eat Haitian-style red beans and rice, and pray for Kensley, a child we sponsor through Compassion, we are expressing solidarity. That my unwillingness to buy clothing made in sweatshops is a way of pursuing peace. That when I teach one child to have empathy or generosity towards another, I am nurturing souls who will someday have empathy and generosity in the wider world.

But I’m not convinced that those tokens are enough. Shouldn’t I be fighting for peace, rather than taking safe baby steps toward it?

Everything in me longs to see true redemption, true conflict and resolution, the beautiful Story of resurrection at work in our world. And yet: when I wake up, I am more interested in checking twitter than praying for the persecuted church. Before I go to sleep, I am more concerned about Kristina Braverman’s cancer than I am about the 26% of mothers in Swaziland who are infected with AIDS. Instead of engaging in the true Story, with all its risks and heartache, I daily choose other stories to satisfy my needs for drama and meaning.

I allow the artificial conflicts and phony resolutions of television shows and social media to fill the emotional space in my heart that could be spent on the true needs of the world. I have neatly protected myself against encountering true difficulty, true tragedy, any story that might be too much for me to bear. And I feed my God-given desire for story, for conflict and resolution, in a safer way, one that promises to always resolve neatly, and usually after just half an hour.

I am poorer for it. Peace, after all, whether you look at it in Hebrew (shalom) or Greek (eirene), implies not the absence of conflict but its resolution. Peace is hard-won.

I need to rededicate myself to peace, not because the world needs me to save it, but because I need to be saved. I need to let go of the false peace born of ignoring the deep cracks in the world; I need to resume fighting for the true peace that is the Kingdom coming to earth. When the credits roll, I want my voice to ring with the true prophets, not just to fade into the same old theme song. 

Will you help me? Will you join?

Amy teaches ESL Writing and American Pop Culture at Taylor University, and spends most of her time making a home for her best-friend-husband and their two (frankly adorable) children.

She shares her mostly unedited thoughts about faith, motherhood, books, movies, television, and food at www.amylepinepeterson.com. Connect with her on twitter @amylpeterson.

2010: a bloggy retrospective {link your best-of posts}

this may be a bit indulgent, but with 2011 approaching, compiling a year-end list of favorite posts appealed to me.  i've enjoying reflecting back on the moments in time cataloged in this space, and if you are a blogger, i hope you'll link some favorites from your own blog that we may have missed the first time around.



 
wherein mothering teaches me about grace:
everything beautiful in its time
sea legs 
dimly-lit days 
notes to the new mom

wherein i reveal my earth mama tendencies: 
ShoutLaughLove:  embodied prayer
on birth and babies
the chemical component: cosmetics, cleaners, and cancer
how to make your own laundry soap

wherein i write poetry(ish):
shabbat shalom
wonderland

wherein i open my big mouth:
the fallacy of colorblindness
an open letter to glenn beck
the public school apologist
our grief is {not} a cry for war

wherein i reflect on the Word 
lift up your head
forget not all his benefits
that your soul may live 

wherein i chronicle our country life:
tune my heart to sing thy grace
august and everything after
babes in the woods

wherein this one is a bit hard to categorize:
if it smells like death, it's probably dead

i can't wait to read some of your best posts of 2010!
linked up with steph over at at adventures in babywearing.

sabbath rest and collaborative goodness

my friend (and relevant roommate!) hyacynth is writing a series on sabbath-keeping at undercover mother, and she kindly allowed me to share her space in a collaborative piece.

Practicing Sabbath means committing to intentional living daily; it means having a decided heart about what actually is most important in life because there simply isn't time to dip our fingers into the shallow pools of the unimportant.

truth bomb, no?

won't you click over and say hello?


****

past meditations here on the practice of sabbath:
remember the sabbath
shabbat shalom

fantastic resources:
Mudhouse Sabbath: An Invitation to a Life of Spiritual Discipline
Receiving the Day: Christian Practices for Opening the Gift of Time

also, this is post #2 today (look out!).  ShoutLaughLove is also live, so please do click over and link your own postcard from along the pilgrims' way.

peace and joy, friends.

the sea is His and so are we

we just got back from Two and a Half Days Away From Camp, and it's not even the end of summer:) since the adventure program continues in full swing after the last camper leaves (saturday--the end is nigh!), jim has to wait to take vacation. nevertheless, we were able to steal away for a mini family trip, and it was wonderful.

mostly. it turns out that tiny people don't like to take naps in hot cottages or stay in their beds or nurse without biting. getting out of the house was a little dramatic, too, but once our seat belts clicked, we were good to go.

an ongoing record of God's goodness, #74 - 98

riding my bike and a horse this summer, because i'm not pregnant:)

re-creation and the shalom of God

teeny little superheroine

things that make long car trips better, like james' tiny hand holding mine,

NPR,

and ben harper

a sister's grace and conquering beauty

celebrating together at home, all six of us

my kids, reveling in unbroken daddy time and attention at the cottage

practicing the pleasure of cooking again, far from the din of the dining hall

balsamic-roasted tomato sauce with tomatoes and basil from our garden (made at midnight before we left and worth every minute. recipe is approximate, and i don't generally measure.)

       2 1/2 lbs tomatoes, cored. i generally quarter or half them. seeding is up to you.

       1/2 c olive oil

       1/3 c balsamic vinegar

       6 large cloves garlic, sliced

       1/2 c onions, sliced

       1 1/2 c basil, chopped

       1 tsp salt

       pepper

       Combine, toss, and roast at 400 for 1 hour, until tomatoes blacken.  

       Transfer to food processor.  Blend and enjoy.

watching mad men while tomatoes roast

a beautiful drive to the lake

reading barbara kingsolver

and rolling stone

james the water baby, splashing delightedly

dylan, the sandcastle architect

wind-in-hair and how sea breezes blow the heat clear away

every second on the boat: blissed-out babes, happy husband, and the contentment of a full heart

a rare cuddly toddler, napping in my arms

great goodwill finds: cleats, soup crocks, dazed and confused

window shopping and flea market browsing courtesy of comfy baby carriers: dylan on jim's back and james in my sling

coming home a night early to sleep in our own beds and go to our church

lunch at home before back to work for jim

"daddy, i like having you here." so do i, baby. so do i.

(ShoutLaughLove is tuesday. come back tomorrow and link a favorite post.)

but what are you FOR?

When you've got an analytical eye, folks may chastise your negativity. Why waste energies tearing down? Upright citizens less easily offended are actually contributing something worthwhile, so quit complaining and do something already!

Here's the thing, though: that binary is false. We can critique and create. We can do and do better still, and analysis is one of many tools that can move us forward. Gardens must be weeded if they are to flourish, and weeding is as much work as planting, watering, or harvesting the fruits of our labors. Each of us is uniquely gifted, and there is value in all sorts of service.

But a lack of concern for systemic injustice (especially that which hurts others and benefits me and mine) exhibits neither moral authority or Christ-like leadership. Despite the common refrain (often from those with most at stake in the status quo), critics and activists are not the reason Why We Can't Have Nice Things. Hierarchy and protected power, secrecy, greed, and oppression inhibit shalom far more than "the surfacing of tensions already present." A peace that does not yet exist cannot possibly be kept by silencing dissent, discouraging critical thought, or demonizing the hurting and those with eyes to see.

But what are the rabble-rousers, troublesome "mobs," and angry "social justice warriors" actually FOR, anyway?

The Fruits and Fire of the Spirit

We are for wholeness, hard truth, and a preferential option for the margins. We are for hospitality, boundaries, and diverse gifts. We are for accountable leadership, transparency, and learning. We are for knowing better and doing justice.

We are for indicting and exposing systems and patterns antithetical to the Kingdom of God. We're for assigning positive intent and showing our work. We are for taking responsibility for our own feelings and actions. We are for peacemaking, conflict, repentance, and seeing it through.

We are for the fruits and the fire of the Spirit. We are for testing everything and holding it up to the light. We are for one holy catholic and apostolic Church, the least, last, and lost.

We are for embodied faith, common prayer, and all things made new. We are for subverting power, dismantling empire, and love with roots, feet, and wings. We are for liberation and not losing heart or giving up. We are for belonging to one another and the good, hard, messy work of practicing resurrection and working out our salvation together.

"Our Struggle Is Not Against Flesh and Blood"

The sin in our systems cannot be addressed solely on an interpersonal level, and our best intentions do not exonerate us from participating in or benefiting from patterns favoring the powerful over the marginalized. When criticism and a desire for accountability and consistency are pathologized as ungracious and even satanic, it baptizes, protects, and reinforces power, which is, more often than not: white, monied, influential, male, cisgender, heterosexual, able-bodied, neurotypical, educated, etc. "Mob" voices deemed malignant, irrational, and un-Christlike overwhelmingly belong (not coincidentally) to women, people of color, survivors, LGBTQ people, and those experienced in mental illness. Widely parroted ideas about civility and grace sound pleasing but may not resemble the way of Jesus.

Healthy leadership is accountable, humble, and willing to learn, and criticism is integral to public discourse. Pretending that criticism and social media are the exclusive domain of trolls is disingenuous, silencing, and frankly, ridiculous coming from the mouths of those who have built sizable platforms on both.

Criticism is a discipline that does not exist in opposition to Christian discipleship. Neither people nor criticism is the enemy. Our systems are sick, and it'll take surgeons' scalpels; healing hands; faithful prayer; and good, hard, all-hands-on-deck work to make us whole.

also: 

what it means to take abuse seriously (R.L. Stollar)

detox: on conflict, criticism, & who writes the history
violence in the snowy fields

{image source}

grow this year in love

when last year began, i chose to meditate on the word shalom, and as this new year dawns, the word that's stirring my heart is cultivate.


to tend, as a garden
to nurture
to refine
to actively pursue growth

while i always desire to grow in theory, in practice, i don't often want to put in the work. i'm not naturally inclined toward cultivation. left to my own laziness, i'll stagnate, and this year i want to allow God the room and space to work in my heart and my home. i need to be teaching my kids from a place where i myself am conforming to the likeness of Christ and stretching beyond where i am comfortable.

these are the ten areas i'm focusing on cultivating in 2010--areas of my life to deepen, refine, and invite God to work. i acknowledge, like Paul, that growth comes not from myself but from God (1 cor 3:6-7). i can't create results, but i can be faithful and obedient. and i can be forgiven for stumbling along the path.

in 2010, i want to cultivate:

love: "live a life worthy of the calling you have received. be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love" (eph 4:1-2). what better prayer than to grow this year in love, striving to live a life worthy of the great calling i've received in Christ?

spiritual discipline: get back into an intentional, consistent devotional practice, including daily scripture reading.

our marriage: pray daily with jim and get james to sleep in his own bed.

play: be the mom who says "yes" to creativity, spontaneity, pretend, books, and the outdoors.

learning: with dylan, i want to identify teaching moments in everyday experiences and resist the urge to rush through activities. for myself, i've only thought of the embarrassingly modest goal of continuing in penny's book circle and finishing each month's pick on time:)

health: bake more, buy less. get back to the gym. (they offer free childcare, for goodness sake!) can and freeze more from our garden and the farmers' market this summer.

hospitality--each month, welcome at least one person or family into our home for a meal.

friendship: each week, seek out good grown-up conversation, ideally in person, but at least on the phone. jim doesn't count! i'm not waiting anymore for others to reach out first, and i want to pray for eyes to see where others are in need of encouragement.

solitude: though being a stay-at-home mom to little ones can be lonely, it doesn't allow for much solitude, and i'd like to spend at least an hour a week by myself at the library or coffee shop (ideally not the grocery store;) alone with my thoughts and my God.

order: i function best without clutter, and so before bed and at other points in the day, i'd like to practice five-minute organizing blitzes to manage the chaos.

"I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. (John 15:5-8)

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law." (Galatians 5:22-23)

Father, may my life bear much fruit this year, as i abide in you.

what new year's goals are you mulling over?