questions (three of three)

should we follow the promptings of our heart?
or should we follow the promptings of our mind?

time and experience have shown me that my heart has the ability to lead me in the right direction – provided that my motives are appropriate. it’s my heart that leads me and my mind that determines whether or not the motives are right and pure. if i want (or need) something and i have the ability to pursue it and it’s for all of the right reasons, then i think that i should go ahead and pursue. that doesn’t mean that i will necessarily get it. but i think that it would be acceptable to pursue it and then walk through the doors that open and try others when the ones before me close.

here is the problem though. too often, what we pursue is for all of the wrong reasons. why? because we have an incredible capacity to justify and to rationalize and to convince ourselves that what is wrong is really right. or at least not that bad. and too often, we ignore the checks and balances that we were created with because they keep us from getting our way.

when we have doubts about something, i think it’s because our heart and mind aren’t on the same page. that might be what they call a “gut check.” and when we have a funny feeling in our gut (or perhaps our soul), i think it’s because our body is telling us that something isn’t right.

giggling

there we are, snuggling together, and she gets the giggles. funny thing, isn't it? how giggles are contagious. and before long, we're both giggling – uncontrollably giggling – and wondering if it will ever end.

questions (two of three)

are our lives predestined?
or are we in control of our own destiny?

i think that god has a perfect plan for each one of us. but it’s hard for us to stay on course because we are human and we make mistakes. we are so easily distracted by things that aren’t good for us. and much too often, it takes a painful meandering for us to realize this. in fact, for most, it takes several painful meanderings.

i think this is easily understood by looking at the relationship between a parent and child. a parent wants the very best for his or her child. but they can’t force the child to do everything they want or to follow a course that has been mapped out for them. eventually the child will want to or need to find his or her own way. eventually they will have to take ownership of their own journey. and they will make mistakes. and they will wander off course. the desire of the parent is for their child to stay on track, but the reality is this – that track isn’t always clear. and sometimes the wrong track looks more appealing, even though the consequences are not.

the good news is that a healthy parent will stand by and support and encourage their child along the way, regardless of where they aim or where they go, or where they end up. and i think that god does the same thing with us. he knows what is best for us. he wants what is best for us. and he will lead us into those great things if we let him. but he will not force us to follow the path he has laid out for us. he gives us the ability to choose and simply walks with us along the way.

spinning

world spins madly on
deb talan_steve tannen

woke up and wished that i was dead, with an aching in my head, i lay motionless in bed. i thought of you and where you'd gone, and let the world spin madly on. everything that i said i'd do, like make the world brand new, and take the time for you. i just got lost and slept right through the dawn, and the world spins madly on. i let the day go by. i always say goodbye. i watch the stars from my window sill. the whole world is moving and i'm standing still. woke up and wished that i was dead, with an aching in my head, i lay motionless in bed. the night is here and the day is gone, and the world spins madly on. i thought of you and where you'd gone, and the world spins madly on.

helpless

there is not much
that i can do.

life has robbed her
of so many things
and yet she has
persevered.

she is an
amazing woman
because of it,
but she's tired.

i feel helpless
as i watch
from a distance.

everything and nothing

her favorite part of the evening was the same as mine...sitting by the river, sipping a drink, and conversing. but it was her reason why that i liked so much. because we talked about everything and absolutely nothing at all.

questions (one of three)

do things happen for a reason?
or do things happen by chance?

i think that everything happens for a reason. but there are different reasons. things present themselves as one of the following – a blessing, a test, or a distraction. and the bugger of it all is to figure out which is which.

we are all on a journey and many things and people and circumstances cross our paths. are they good things for us to receive and enjoy? are they things that are testing us to make us better individuals? or are they distractions that are meant to disrupt our journey? if we can figure out which is which, and then act accordingly, i think we can live very healthy and happy lives. if we don’t, then it becomes very easy to find ourselves in pain – burdened by guilt and hurt and doubt and hopelessness.

we can certainly mess things up. and we do. we mess things up all of the time. but i also believe that god can take any and all of our mistakes and turn them into something good. he can use any circumstance to make us better – even when we’ve jacked the whole thing up. god is oozing with grace. and we need to do the same. both for others and for ourselves. and i believe that this grace can provide us with the confidence that we need to get up, dust ourselves off, and get back on the path set out for us. we may need to go a different way. it may take a bit longer to get where we are going. but we can (and should) continue the journey. we can continue to move forward. and because of this, i think that there can always be a good and happy ending. a different ending than what was planned or expected? perhaps. but still a good and happy ending.

why do i believe this? because i’ve heard so many stories that confirm it. in fact, i even have my own stories to confirm it.

incomplete

i’m realizing lately just how incomplete i really feel. sure, there are days when i feel happy, but there are so many where i just feel absolutely beat. defeated. empty and unable to find the answer. i wonder sometimes where i should even look to find what i seek. the problem is that i’m not really sure what it is i want. or what it is i need. and i wonder if this is something that i will need to accept and endure for the rest of my life. which seems somewhat weak.

untitled

i never tire
of being in
your presence –
each and
every moment
unique and
remembered –
moments
i wish would
never end.

grinning

my youngest daughter gave me an envelope the other day. she had written the word "dad" across the front and had placed a golden star where a stamp would typically go. inside was a note/drawing that she had prepared. it said "wild tiger" across the top. followed by a line that identified who it was "to" and who it was "from." and finally, in the middle of the page, she had drawn a heart with the words "wild tiger" repeated in its center and five exclamation points. i have absolutely no idea what she is referring to or intending with this note/drawing, but i was grinning from ear to ear. thanks kiddo.

distant

i've been feeling a bit distant lately – spiritually. and i'm tired of christians. even christianity a bit. too many are following because everyone else is doing it. and it's more of a formula than anything personal. i guess it's that way for almost any religion – to some extent. but i'm growing weary. i want to break out of the crowd. and find those secret places that some say jesus was drawn to.

i read a book while i was in africa. it was called "the forbidden rumi: the suppressed poems of rumi on love, heresy, and intoxication." and although i didn't necessarily agree with everything (or understand everything for that matter), there were thoughts and overarching themes that hit home. this idea of becoming a heretic in the eyes of others because what you have is so personal and so intimate that it demands leaving the crowd. and it demands abandoning the formula. that resonates with me. and then there was the idea of dissolving into god – losing all of self and becoming one with our creator. (a bit mystic, but i'm intrigued.)

if i'm heading off course, go ahead and tell me. but please don't stop me for simply stepping off the path that everyone else is on.


>>>
here is an excerpt from rumi's book. not the excerpt i wanted to share, but all i could find online.

songs to shams, songs to god 6

what a story! you finally meet someone in whose presence you are transported to god. you immediately go off together, hand in hand, and shut yourself off from the world behind the closed doors of your retreat room. over the weeks and months to follow, you dissolve into each other through simply sitting in each other's presence, gazing raptly at each other. (when god sits down before you, where else would you want to look?) when you emerge from your retreat, you are fundamentally different from the person who entered it so many months before. the only sane thing to do after an event like this is to live happily ever after, yes? but it wasn't like that.

rumi may have entered into retreat with shams as a kind of devout shepherd, looking after his flock of followers, but he emerged as a hungry wolf, exhorting people to drop their pretenses, move beyond their rigid adherence to the outward forms of religion, and enter instead into a direct experience of god.

rumi wanted the townspeople of konya to recognize shams as he had come to know and see him: as a direct conduit to the divine. for rumi, shams was a funnel that led to god. exposed to the heat of shams' presence, rumi would simply melt, and the mixture of the two souls would take both into the consciousness of union. this is what true religion is all about, and rumi fully expected his former followers to leap into the divine fire with him.

their response instead was to react mostly with criticism and outrage to the perceived heresy of two souls merging into the one god. for the orthodox mind, it is accepted that the founder of the religion would have had a direct encounter with the energies of god, but not, evidently, anyone else. the negativity around the companionship between rumi and shams grew so large that shams had no choice but to leave, and rumi fell apart with grief.

it's not about me

i was sitting in church last night observing the stained glass image that is projected onto the wall each week and had the following thoughts. stained glass is beautiful. but it's beauty typically comes from both the pattern that is created from the various pieces of glass working together and the rays of color that are projected as light passes through them. if you isolate two or three pieces and look at them alone, the glass is not nearly as impressive. and without the light, the glass can often seem dull and uninteresting.

and then i started thinking about my life. how there are so many components in my life that all look so different from one another. some are good. some are bad. some are large. some are small. they are just a bunch of fragments pushed up against one another. and by themselves, they aren't that impressive. in fact, many of the pieces that make up my life are cracked or broken. and yet when god's light shines through me, it has a way of making everything look pretty good. people aren't as prone to notice all of the cracks or the broken pieces or even the fact that a certain two or three don't really go together. instead they see the splendor of that which is working in me and through me. and i realize (again) that it's never really about me.

africa

i recently returned from a trip to goma – a large city of eight-hundred thousand in the democratic republic of congo. an amazing trip that filled my life with stories and sounds and smells and experiences that i will never forget. i've been out of touch for awhile, but now i've returned. thanks for your patience.

for those of you interested, i did write quite a bit of prose and poetry documenting my experiences during my time away. most of these writings are posted at http://www.peripheralinafrica.blogspot.com. feel free to visit if you would like.

simply living (with burns to prove it)

i’ve been busy lately. too busy to write. but not to busy to think. and one of the things that i’ve been thinking about is goals. a potential employer asked that i fill out a questionnaire that specifically addressed the goals that i have set for my future – both in the short-term and the long-term, both work-related and personal. and after a bit of time, i found that there were several personal goals that i could set for myself.

the two goals that have seemed to make the most impact, or at least taken up an active space in my brain, and the following.

one. i would like to lose my inhibitions and
act more like a kid around my kids.

two. i would like to do a better job of living
in the moment.

setting goals in the past has often proved pointless as other things get in the way of fulfilling them or they are intentionally (or unintentionally) set to the side for a variety of reasons. but these are two that i would like to fulfill. and i’ve already started.

it was a warm, sunday evening and the faith community that i’m a part of was meeting at a local bandshell instead of its typical, weekly location. this was the second week that we had decided to meet outdoors and on this particular week, the staff had decided to rent one of those inflatable obstacle course/slide contraptions for the kids to use both before and after the worship experience. and they did. but a few of us adults decided that we needed to use it too.

so after the service ended, a group of us made our way over to this amazing piece of equipment and proceeded to race each other through the initial opening, interior obstacles, short climbing wall, and down the slide. we raced and we raced and we raced. and i won and i won and i won. i must have gone through that thing twenty to thirty times. the fact that i won really didn’t matter. it was the fact that i kept going through. running like crazy. flipping in the air. acquiring rug (plastic) burns along my arms. smiling and laughing the entire time. i didn’t care what people were thinking. i was having a blast. and i was living in the moment.

it may seem silly, but this was actually a powerful time for me. a time of redefining who i am. a time of letting go. a time of release. and the best part about it all was that i recognized that i was fulfilling two of my most recent goals.

yes, i was losing my inhibitions. yes, i was living in the moment. but more importantly, i was simply living. i was experiencing life in a deep and meaningful way.

may i continue to experience this life. may i continue to live. and may i enjoy it all.

autobiography in five short chapters

one.
i walk down the street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i fall in.
i am lost and i am helpless.
it isn’t my fault.
it takes forever to find a way out.

two.
i walk down the same street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i pretend i don’t see it.
i fall in again.
i can’t believe i am in the same place.
but it isn’t my fault.
it still takes a long time to get out.

three.
i walk down the same street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i see it there.
i still fall in.
it’s a habit.
my eyes are open.
i know where i am.
it is my fault.
i get out immediately.

four.
i walk down the same street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i walk around it.

five.
i walk down a different street.

author unknown

closure

“it’s important in life to conclude things properly. only then can you let go. otherwise, you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse.”
yann martel

tingle

the sun
kissed my
forehead
this morning
and i can
still feel
the tingle
of her lips.

stop shrugging

i’ve been thinking about how much i take for granted the compliments and encouraging words of those around me. it hit me this weekend while i allowed the munchkins to take turns riding in the front seat of our vehicle. it was an interesting thing to watch, as they explored all of their new surroundings and asked questions about which buttons did what. and then, there were moments where time seemed to literally stand still as they would look up at me, beaming with happiness, and grinning from ear to ear. it was precious.

i would compliment them often. and they would soak it in. it was great. but then it hit me. as i thought about this, i started to realize that way too often, when those closest to me are complimentary about my talents or gifts or creativity or whatever, i tend to shrug it off. it doesn’t take. or stick. or soak in. i often feel as if they are simply saying it because they feel like they are supposed to. it’s the right thing to do. it’s nice. the phrases, “they’re just being supportive” or “they’re just trying to encourage me” race through my mind. and yet when someone in my field of work (a complete stranger) compliments my abilities, i buy it, because i think that they are somehow more in tune with me. (this is where i stop and scratch my head.) why is that? why do we tend to listen to strangers and ignore those that are the closest to us.

well, all of these thoughts rambled through my brain and ended here...i hope that my daughters will always hear and believe the words of life that i speak into them. the words of encouragement. the words of support. may they always hear that they are incredible. that they are amazing. that they are fantastic creations who have the potential to do unbelievable things. and even though i am close to them, may they still believe it.

along life's way

i’m reading a book and thinking outside of the box. we are so divided – as people, genders, cultures, religions, etcetera. why? why are we so divided? do we get hung up on preferences? beliefs? opinions? desires? egos? too often, i’m distracted by things that don’t matter. i want to see the truth in everything. or at least take the time to search for it.

“we are all born like catholics, aren’t we – in limbo, without religion, until some figure introduces us to god? after that meeting the matter ends for most of us. if there is a change, it is usually for the lesser rather than the greater; many people seem to lose god along life’s way. that was not my case. the figure in question for me was an older sister of mother’s, of a more traditional mind, who brought me to a temple when i was a small baby. auntie rohini was delighted to meet her newborn nephew and she thought she would include mother goddess in the delight. ‘it will be his symbolic first outing,’ she said. ‘it’s a samskara!’ symbolic indeed. we were in madurai; i was the fresh veteran of a seven-hour train journey. no matter. off we went on this hindu rite of passage, mother carrying me, auntie propelling her. i have no conscious memory of this first go-around in a temple, but some smell of incense, some play of light and shadow, some flame, some burst of colour, something of the sultriness and mystery of the place must have stayed with me. a germ of religious exaltation, no bigger than a mustard seed, was sown in me and left to germinate. it has never stopped growing since that day.” yann martel

nothing

i attended a spiritual retreat back in november that focused primarily on slowing down – acknowledging that many of us have been consumed with movement and action and being busy. at the end of the retreat, we were encouraged to write something on a piece of paper, place it in a self-addressed envelope, and drop it in a basket. it would be mailed to us in a few months. i just received that letter today and this is what it said.

it’s okay to sit
in silence
and feel like
you’ve done
absolutely
nothing.
for in doing
nothing
for god,
you have
done more
with him
than you could
have ever
imagined.

perch

there’s a beautiful butterfly
that comes near
and then flutters away
as i wait patiently

i hold out my hand –
hopeful for the day
it will perch
on the tip of my finger

© 2006 kris e. lindquist

out of touch

i haven’t written much lately because i was recently laid off from the design position that i’ve held for the past eight-and-a-half years and have been looking diligently for a new one. it’s interesting, because six months ago i would have been freaking out and losing both my appetite and many beneficial hours of sleep. but i’ve been incredibly upbeat and positive. so far, so good. and yet today, i can feel a bit of discouragement setting in. i need to resist that.

so i’ve been out of touch for a bit. have you missed me?

unified by the source

“i offer you peace. i offer you love. i offer you friendship. i see your beauty. i hear your need. i feel your feelings. my wisdom flows from the highest source. i salute that source in you. let us work together for unity and love.”
gandhi

help me to stop getting hung up on the packaging, the labels, and the images of others. rather, help me to see the source, or the light, within.

love letter

“to write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish without knowing what you have written.”
jean jacques rousseau

i wish i could live my life like this. and i’m not even sure that i fully understand it.

needing to hear

i was at a target store with my daughters the other day and had a brief, but sweet conversation with the woman who helped to check us out. nothing deep, but the kind of conversation that moves beyond the surface and actually engages one another.

my oldest daughter observed this. and as i pushed our cart out of the store – with one munchkin sleeping and hunched over in the front and the other fully alert and observant, riding on the back – my oldest daughter said, “she was a nice woman.” and then she looked me dead in the eye and continued, ““you’re a nice man. no, you’re a fun man.”

my heart melted. and i asked, “why do you say that.”

she answered, “lots of dads are serious. they’re boring. but you take us places and spend time with us. you’re fun.”

thanks kiddo. you have no idea how much i need to hear that.

eager

deep within my being

there is a desire
to catch your eye
to behold your smile
to hear your voice

there is a longing
to engage you
to laugh with you
to know you

there is a penchant
to walk with you
to grasp your hand
to journey together

there is a compulsion
to give freely
to share perpetually
to love completely

a desire
a longing
a penchant
a compulsion

i’m eager to find you

© 2006 kris e. lindquist

all that remains

i received a book from my sister the other day entitled “white wave.” it’s an old chinese tale, written in the taoist tradition, about a “lonely chinese farmer who finds a snail shell gleaming in the moonlight. the shell transforms his life, for when he brings it home, he discovers it is the house of the beautiful moon goddess, white wave.”

in the story, the farmer discovers this wonderful gift and then loses it by spoiling it. after time, he is able to get one final glimpse, but eventually the gift ceases to exist and the farmer dies. the last page of the book reads, “when the old man died, the shell was lost. in time, the shrine, too, disappeared. all that remained was the story. but that is how it is with all of us: when we die, all that remains is the story.”

an interesting ending, and one that i agree with. although, it’s written in somewhat of a negative tone. the words “all that” imply that there needs to be more. and i don’t know that i completely agree with that. some leave good stories. and others leave bad ones. but we have the opportunity to leave behind our stories. hopefully, there are many positive vignettes within those stories – things and events and actions that were positive and impactful during our lives. but i also hope that the story itself (or the stories within the story) will be impactful for those that follow. that in some small way, it has the power and ability to be positive and impactful even after we’re gone.

now, back to the final statement. there is beauty in it. i just missed it the first time. the beauty is that the story actually “remains.” think about it...the story remains. it lives on. and is passed on.

may my story remain and not be forgotten.

break

i watched a movie entitled “invisible children” last evening. it was a documentary about the children of northern uganda who travel to the city each night to sleep. they are afraid of staying in their villages because the rebels have been known to abduct and abuse these children at night for their own purposes. in fact, many of these children have escaped previous abductions and not only hide during the night, but also hide during the day.

the entire movie had a great impact on me. but there was one scene in particular that captured my heart. there were a couple of boys (brothers) who were being interviewed. they were tired of the struggle. so much so that they professed their desire for death, rather than life under the current conditions. they would rather be dead. (i still need time to process that.) perhaps, they felt dead already.

and as they continued to reflect on their short lives, they were asked about their older brother. he had also been abducted, but was unable to escape, and was ultimately killed by the militia. one of the boys began to answer, keeping his composure, and looked primarily to the future. he talked about the possibility of a reencounter with his brother – perhaps in heaven. and he continued to keep his composure.

he had learned very quickly that the militia had no tolerance for emotional children who thought of home or family. in fact, often these children were made an example of and were killed in front of the others. jacob’s brother could have been one of those children. and jacob was expected to express nothing. he was not allowed to enter into his pain. so he kept his composure.

and then, he broke. and he wept. he wept like no one i have ever seen before.

i just sat there and watched jacob weep. there was nothing that i could do. i wanted to hold him. i wanted to sit with him. i wanted to cry with him. but most of all, i wanted to mirror him. i wanted to be able to burst – to allow myself to feel. i wanted to be uninhibited. i wanted to be authentic. i wanted to be pure.

jacob taught me an important lesson. he taught me that i don’t allow myself to break often enough. i need to break for others. and i need to break for myself. i want to learn how to do that. thank you jacob.

stand for change

i’ve been thinking a bit about change. change within myself. change within my community. change within the world. lofty idea, i know, to change the world and all, but i’ve been thinking about it. and i’m starting to wonder what is and isn’t my responsibility.

i understand that i am responsible for changing myself. i can make changes that will impact me. in fact, those changes have the potential to impact my community and my world as well. but i can’t make others change. and i can’t make the world change. so why do i try so hard sometimes.

when i think about some of the world’s greatest leaders, it occurs to me that they influenced change, but they never forced the change. they never made the change happen. there needed to be a willingness first on the part of that which they were hoping would change. gandhi didn’t change the mind of the british to grant india its freedom. the british had to make their own decision to do this. martin luther king, jr. didn’t change the mind of the united states to change its laws and position regarding civil rights. the united states government had to make their own decision. jesus didn’t change the mind of those who chose to follow his teachings. his followers had to decide for themselves.

too often, i try to convince. i try to persuade. i try to make the change happen. and i’m starting to realize that. it’s painful, but i need to acknowledge it. instead, i need to focus on myself. that does not mean that i sit around and do nothing. or that i make changes in my own personal life and distance myself from others – from my community or from my world. i am responsible for doing what is right.

so what does that mean? what does it mean to do right?

i think it starts by searching for the truth. without the truth, it’s hard to do anything right. we all possess an inherent sense of truth – or right and wrong. but there are also truths that we need to search for and discover outside of ourselves. or perhaps, more accurately, we need to be exposed to experiences and conversations and hardships and successes in order for the truth, that is already within us, to be revealed.

and then, i think we (i) are responsible for standing up – standing up for what we believe in. to stand up for what we believe to be the truth. when we see pain where there should be no pain, we stand up. when we see injustice where there should be no injustice, we stand up. when we see lies where there should be truth, we stand up. that is my responsibility – not to make the change, but simply to stand up. simple? not always. but easier to do than convince or persuade or force change. i can’t expect change. i can only hope for it. and by standing up for truth, at the very least, i am asking others to reevaluate. to reconsider. to think.

may my search for truth never end. may i always be changing that which lies within. and when i’m faced with anything that contradicts truth, may i always stand.

help me to remember

“when i despair, i remember that all through history, the way of truth and love has always won. there have been tyrants and murderers and for a time, they can seem invincible. but in the end, they always fall. think of it – always.”
mohandas gandhi

africa

africa has been on my mind for quite some time. but it’s also working its way into my heart.

i’ve been thinking about traveling to africa for several months now, but the plans are finally starting to come together. and i’m excited – so excited. my current plan is to travel to the congo (democratic republic) this summer for the purpose of leading several arts workshops for children. i would be working with a few friends, in conjunction with a local hospital, and would be providing a way for these young africans to express themselves through art – expressions of joy and hope and pain and despair.

these children and their families are dealing with some very troubling circumstances. and yet they are hopeful. rebels are killing men, women, and children. women and children are being raped. families are dealing with poverty, starvation, and disease. and the war continues. it’s a brutal war. but it’s more than just physical. it’s emotional, intellectual, and spiritual. it’s a war that continues even when the fighting stops. and yet, i’m excited to become a part of that. i have no intention of saving the day. no intention of solving problems. i simply want to walk along side of them – children and elders and all those in between. to sit with them. to learn from them. to grow with them. to listen to them. and to build relationships with them that will last a lifetime.

and i’m excited to see that there are others who want to walk with us as well – local organizations who want to brainstorm with us, dream with us, work with us, and support us. several organizations in minneapolis have invited us to meet with them to start a conversation about how they might become involved. we have several meetings on the horizon with art museums/galleries, a group of children’s hospitals, various arts organizations, and local immigrants. and i’m confident that there will be others.

i’m also making more personal connections. i have friends from zimbabwe, a friend from nigeria, a friend whose son-in-law is from gambia, friends living in south africa, friends who are moving to zambia, other friends from somewhere in africa, and daughters who attend school with classmates from both kenya and somalia. i’ve learned so much from these friends and i’m grateful for their presence in my life. they are making an impact.

africa is definitely on my mind. it’s working its way into my heart. and perhaps, it’s even working its way into my soul.

here’s a traditional african prayer that i love.
let us take care of the children, for they have a long way to go.
let us take care of the elders, for they have come a long way.
let us take care of those in between, for they are doing the work.

true friendship

“i will teach you all my foolishness.
and you must teach me yours.”
kasturba gandhi

thoreau for thought

here are a couple of statements that i read last evening from henry david thoreau. interesting food for thought.

talking about a way to live...“in any weather, at any hour of the day or night, i have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line.” oh, to live in the “nick of time.”

talking about progression and status and perceptions and reality...“while civilization has been improving our houses, it has not equally improved the men who are to inhabit them. it has created palaces, but it was not so easy to create noblemen and kings.” may i stop looking at the men who live in houses and start to look at the hearts that live in man.

son of adam

interesting thing happened to me this morning. just as i finished my morning shower, i slipped, and i fell backwards into the shower curtain. after a brief moment of support, the shower curtain gave way and we both came crashing down. on the way, we knocked over a small paint can full of rocks and a candle that were positioned on a nearby shelf. the can spilled over and the candle shattered into many, many pieces.

there we lay – naked, spilt, and shattered. and yet, i picked myself up, dealt with the mess, and continued on.

i couldn’t help but to think about the original fall of man. it all happened so fast – flat on his back, in a moment of disbelief. naked, with spilled hope and shattered dreams. and yet, he picked himself up, dealt with the mess, and continued on.

like father, like son.

move

here’s an adaptation of a statement that wyclef jean made in a recent interview. “justice is not accomplished through charity. it’s accomplished through movement. the world doesn’t need our charity. it needs our movement. it needs us to physically do something.”

and here are a few excerpts from the spring 0’two issue of colors magazine.

“ninety percent of all domestic workers worldwide are aged between twelve and seventeen.”

“fifty-two percent of u.s. fifteen-year-olds say it is difficult or very difficult to talk with their fathers.”

“the average age of a homeless person in the u.s. is nine years old.”

“six thousand girls aged between four and twelve undergo genital mutilation every day.”

“one million kids carry handguns to school each year in the u.s.a.”

“more than three hundred thousand children are involved in armed conflict in forty-one countries worldwide.”

“thirty-three percent of primary school-aged children in jakarta, indonesia, believe life is not worth living.”

“eighty percent of hiv-positive children under the age of fifteen live in africa.”

“at least eight-hundred seventy-five million adults are illiterate, two-thirds of them women.”

the world needs our movement. so, don’t just sit there. there is a need. and now that you know, you must choose your course of action. someone else will not take your place. they will take their own place while your’s remains vacant. it’s time to respond. it’s time to move.

one word

during my weekly sunday visit to the coffee shop of my choice, i noticed a word etched into the paper towel dispenser in the men’s bathroom. the word was “forgive.” and i started to think about the power of that one word. it’s stuck with me ever since.

i wondered what it would be like to place a word on the door of my dwelling place. one word. a word that i would see as i enter. and a word that i would see as i exit. the same word. but what would that word be? i like “forgive” because i need the reminder to do that – not only with myself and my children, but with others that i encounter throughout my day. and yet there are so many other words that have power. love. freedom. acceptance. goodness.

what is that one word?

spiritual molting

i’m starting to realize that i’m not satisfied. i’m not satisfied with who i am. i’m not satisfied with who i’ve become. i’m not satisfied with life. and i’m not satisfied with my faith. there is all of this stuff within me that just gets in the way. and yet there is something within me that is wanting to get out. it’s wanting to be set free. it’s wanting to be birthed anew.

i think my soul needs a good molting. i need to shed the old for something brand new. i need to rid myself of those areas of my life that are dead (or should be dead). i need to discard the unhealthy so that i can become healthy again. and i need to lose the skin that is keeping me from the growth that god has for me.

but i’m not sure how this works. what does it look like? what does it feel like? and how can i become content with the process. for i’m sure that once i shed that which is holding me back, the process will most likely start all over again.

there is something
within me
that is new
and fresh
but can’t be revealed
until that
which is dead –
which holds me,
robs me
restricts me –
is cast off
and left behind.

sharing wishes

the following are excerpts from the winter 0’five/0’six issue of colors magazine.

“i wish i had a machine that could make money.”
qing yan, twenty
prostitute, panyu, china

“i wish to be found.”
irwin cruz, thirty
journalist, madrid, spain

“papa beats me when i do something wrong. i wish he were more kind.”
jubel tamang, five
student, kathmandu, nepal

“if i could have both my hands back, i would be satisfied with that. my hands were chopped off at the very start of the war. i was the very first casualty of the war. after my hands were chopped off, i was sent back to freetown to give the message to the government.”
tamba ngaujah, forty-four
ex-soldier, freetown, sierra leone

“i wish that during our adult life we all had to experience one year minimum as a member of the opposite sex.”
ania jones, thirty-seven
office administrator, warsaw, poland

“i wish that major pharmaceutical groups were non-profit organizations.”
anne toulmonde, twenty-four
communication assistant, paris, france

“i live in a land of contrasts, where more than fifty percent of the population lives on less than u.s. one dollar a day, in a country that has the biggest market for mercedes benz cars. i wish for equality and compassion. equality in which people are more important than tribes, races and religion. compassion through which all people, regardless of differences, care about others and work toward improving the life of all.”
david hiscox, forty-four
managing director, nairobi, kenya

“i want to have sex with at least two girls from every tribe in uganda. so far i have covered about fifty-eight percent of them. after that i will consider myself a hero.”
chapman mutego, twenty-nine
male sex worker, busoga jinja, uganda

“i wish to take on another man’s color.”
alexandre calaque, thirty-two
poet, ile d’oleron, france
died in a car accident, november ‘05

“my wish isn’t so altruistic. i wish for a cure for aids so i wouldn’t already have three strikes against me when i’m dating.”
davide, thirty-nine
college professor, rome, italy
hiv positive for fourteen years

at first glance, one might see many differences between the types of people represented by these wishes. and isn’t it interesting how we tend to identify with those who speak words we agree with and then distance ourselves from those who speak words that we don’t. but it’s not really about the wishes. it’s about what these individuals believe that the wishes will bring – value, attention, love, wholeness, understanding, selflessness, justice, accomplishment, experience, and acceptance. and in that case, i can relate to all of these folks. the methods of achievement may be different, but the desires are the same.

i’m learning that judgment lives on the surface, while compassion lives in the depths. and that makes me want to go deeper with others. i want to plunge into the lives of those i encounter. to see past their wishes and to recognize their desires. and i want to plunge into my own life as well – to stop being so hard on myself. and to discover the real desires that are hiding beneath the surface.

beat down

there is this game or activity or whatever you may want to call it that i play with my daughters on my bed. or perhaps i should call it our “ring.” they request it often. it’s called a beat down.

the game basically consists of the girls standing on the bed, making intimidating movements and maneuvers, and shouting things like “tai kwan do” with conviction. their eyes are squinted and focused and they are ready to do battle. now, they know the whole time that when they attack, i will basically body slam them back onto the bed. but on occasion, they are able to elude my polished skills and tackle me (both of them working together). they pull me onto the bed and do whatever they can to keep me there. i let them have their satisfaction, and will play along for a bit, but when i’m ready to escape, all i need to do is tickle them. actually, i tickle the very life out of them. their laughter is uncontrollable. it’s spontaneous. it’s glorious. and i always win (at least from my perspective). they know i will win. which is a bit odd to me, because they hate to lose at most everything they pursue. but with this game, they don’t mind.

i wish that i could approach life this way. you know, staring it down with focus, knowing the whole time that i will most likely fail. and yet enjoying the experience. enjoying the body slams. enjoying the laughter. enjoying it all.

subtraction

i’ve recently realized that all of the effort i’ve been putting in to grow and evolve and change has been a huge waste of my time. i’ve been trying to “become” the person that i think i’m supposed to be. but it’s clear to me now, that i’ve been heading in the wrong direction. and i now realize that i need to turn around to discover who i was created to “be” thirty-four years ago instead - without all of the things that i've added. you see, i’ve added things to my life – unnecessary things – and they are blocking my ability to see who i really am.

i’ve always thought that we go through life – with all of it’s joys and pains and trials and successes and experiences – so that we can be shaped into who god really wants us to become. but the more i think about it, the more i’m convinced that i’ve been wrong. dead wrong.

life’s experiences were never meant to shape us into the men and women that god wanted us to become. he already created us just as he wanted us to be. no, life’s experiences were meant to help us realize who we really are.

so, what is my purpose in life? to be the person that god created me to be. it’s not about using all of the things that i’ve acquired. talents i’ve learned. knowledge i’ve added. formulas i’ve developed. it’s not about me making myself better. why? because god has already given me the tools that i need to live a purposeful life. and he’ll reveal them in his own timing. all i need to do is to use what he has given me. and that encourages me. in fact, it makes life seem a bit easier. less pressure and lower expectations.

we are creatures with a natural bent towards our creator. we don’t need to blaze a trail. we don’t need to leave a legacy. we don’t really need to do anything. we can just “be.” and in that “being,” god will transform us. not into something different, but back into the person that he originally created.

as i write this, i’m reminded of one of jesus’ teachings, when he talked about entering the kingdom of heaven. he said that unless we become like the children that surrounded him, it would be really, really hard to enter the kingdom.

why?

because they were thinking and feeling and acting just as god had created them to be. they hadn’t had the opportunity to add all kinds of meaningless things to their lives – emotional, intellectual, spiritual, and physical habits – that had become distractions. they were willing to listen. they were willing to submit. they were willing to admit that they couldn’t do it on their own. they were raw. and they were pure. they were following the cues of their souls. and they were exactly as their creator had made them. exactly as their creator had intended.

i’m tired of having to push things out of the way to get to my soul. and i hope that i can begin the process of subtraction – of eliminating those things that tend to block my way.

falling

a close friend invited me to attend a play yesterday and i think it may have been the highlight of my entire year. it was amazing and i’m still working through its impact on my thoughts, actions, feelings – its impact on my life. the production was entitled “the night thoreau spent in jail” and it highlighted not only this particular night, but also his life and his relationship with his mentor, ralph waldo emerson. if webster’s were to define “out of the box,” they may do so by placing henry david thoreau’s photo next to the description. this man was incredible.

several statements from the production have become top of mind for me, but there is one that i’ve been working through over the past sixteen hours or so.

after a few interactions, henry and his brother john have both become intrigued and interested in a woman named ellen. and as henry discusses his brother’s love for ellen – with ellen – it is apparent that she has not been impressed. she was not impressed with john’s presentation, or more specifically, with his words (or lack thereof). in fact, at one point, she says that he hardly spoke. and that’s when henry responded. with both passion and compassion in his voice, he said, “you missed the eloquence of his silence.”

and at that very moment, my soul fell silent.

the play continued.

but i just sat there.

silent.

what am i missing?

and in my striving so hard not to miss things, am i missing everything?

(pause.)

has there been too much noise in my life?

in my soul?

(long pause.)

no more.

no more work. no more effort.

my soul knows.

my soul knows what it needs. it knows what it wants. it knows how to act.

why don’t i let it?

(pause.)

there is something so pure and sound and whole in the silence.

(pause.)

may my soul – today – fall silent again.

questions today

“to understand is hard.
once one understand,
action is easy.”
sun yet-sen, chinese politician

do i understand my faith?
and is my faith active?

webster’s dictionary defines “understand” this way:
a: to grasp the meaning of
b: to grasp the reasonableness of
c: to have thorough or technical acquaintance with or expertness in the practice of
d: to be thoroughly familiar with the character and propensities of

to understand takes time. and diligence. and effort. and i don’t know that i put enough energy into truly understanding all that faith is. all that faith encompasses. all that faith has to offer. and yet, i don’t think it’s so much about the energy that i put in (or the work). rather, it’s the willingness to sit still enough to let god reveal the understanding that i seek – effortless on my part and in his perfect timing – when he knows that i’m ready.

i often think that man lives a backwards life. (i live a backwards life.) we tend to do the opposite of what was intended. we get confused and distracted and don’t always recognize what we are doing or why we are doing it. and we live in bondage more often than we live in freedom. for example, we tend to be moving way too much. in fact, we move and move and move until we are so exhausted that we need to rest. we need to sit still in order to recover. but what if we actually sat still before we began to move? what if in our stillness, we were actually preparing to move with purpose? what if we shifted things around a bit?

i do agree with sun yet-sen. action will follow understanding. and it will be easier because you will know why you are doing what you do. your actions will have purpose. but i think there is a step or two before one can fully understand. and if i were to rewrite his words, i think i would write them something like this...

“to sit still is hard.
once one sit, one can listen.
once one listen, one will understand.
and once one understand,
one will act.
the action will have purpose.
and the action will be easy.”
sun yet-sen and kris e. lindquist

so again i ask,
do i understand my faith?
and is my faith active?
but perhaps those are the wrong questions.

perhaps i should be asking,
am i willing to sit still?
and am i willing to listen?

my bent

"in its essential soundness,
the soul knows
no effort toward god;
the love of god
is the quietly predominant
bent of our nature.”

© rainer maria rilke

untitled

you invited me
to join the circus
today.
i smiled.
and i imagined
my life
as a clown –
tripping over
my oversized shoes –
and enjoying
the fall.

© 2006 kris e. lindquist

a leader without a home

i passed by a homeless man yesterday and the sign he held in his hands caught my attention. it said, “homeless. running for president. he has the job i want.”

and immediately i began to think about the idea of such a person running our country. what a refreshing thought. a man who probably had a better idea of community than most of us. a man who would be more concerned about caring and providing for others rather than pleasing them. a man who could identify with the urgency of life’s needs – understanding the differences between necessity and desire. a man who had set aside his pride (days, weeks, months, or years ago) to stand on a busy street corner and ask for help. a man full of life experiences.

refreshing.

and what a great example for the rest of us. i viewed him as a leader that we could all admire and look up to.

then i thought about another leader i’ve heard of. one who walked and talked and healed and listened and cared for and nurtured and taught and loved all those he encountered. and i remembered that he was also without a home.

floating

there’s this thought that floats within my head
that life will get easier one day
at least that’s what i say and pray
but test and trial come instead.

whole

a few friends and i went to see the movie “transamerica” a little over a week ago, and i am still processing all that i took in. here is a synopsis of the movie.

“bree is a perfectly adjusted conservative transsexual woman. born stanley, a genetic male, she’s about to take the final step to becoming the woman stanley always wanted to be – until she finds out that she is the parent of a long-lost seventeen year-old son, toby. toby is a drug-addled hustler living on the streets of new york city, dreaming of meeting the father he never knew. afraid to tell the rebellious teenager the truth, bree embarks on a journey with him that will challenge and change both their lives and bring them closer to the truth of their connection.”

needless to say that the movie was deep – filled with a variety of scenarios and situations that i can’t even imagine having to deal with. and i found myself walking away with a variety of thoughts, questions, and emotions.

in just two hours, i had been exposed to the following.

a man living his life as a woman
a man preparing to become a woman (surgically)
a man struggling to find happiness
a man dealing with the surprise of being a parent
a man rejected by his family for choices he had made
a man trying to hide the truth
a man ashamed of himself
a man looking for acceptance
a man trying to do the right thing as a father

a boy living his life as a hustler (prostitute)
a boy trying to escape reality by using drugs
a boy using sex as a means of finding value
a boy looking for acceptance
a boy seeking a father
a boy struggling with right versus wrong
a boy searching for happiness
a boy desiring more

so, here were some of my initial thoughts. why would stanley want to change his genetic makeup? why would toby sell his body and allow himself to be used by others? what experiences had each of these guys gone through or been exposed to (over the course of their lives) that had led them to the present? why couldn’t stanley and toby find worth in who they already were and who they were created to be? their choices seemed so drastic. what were they doing? they seemed so different than me. or were they?

you see, stanley and toby were broken. and they were looking for ways to fill those broken areas of their lives. and guess what? i do the exact same thing. aren’t we all broken? and aren’t we all guilty of wanting to change who we really are, because we aren’t happy? we think that we are capable of fixing the problem, but we’re not. we get confused and seem to focus on changing the wrong things. the solution is not to change who we are. the solution is to recognize and change who we are not. we need to embrace who we are and then eliminate those things that have found their way into our lives and corrupted us into becoming men and women that we were never intended to be. we need to get back to living the lives that we were created for.

we struggle with this because we are all broken. we’ve all been broken. and we will all be broken in the future. why? because we live in a broken world. what we really want is to feel whole. that’s what stanley wanted. that’s what toby wanted. they wanted to feel whole. stanley thought that life as a woman would make him feel whole. toby thought that love would make him feel whole. but changing who we are will not make us feel whole. it will simply make us feel like someone else who is still broken.

so, what do we do? what do i do? well, i think it starts with acceptance – accepting who we are, right now. we are broken. we are hurting. we are confused. we are wanting. we are seeking. and then we need to be willing to admit that we can’t fix those things on our own. we aren’t capable. we get too distracted. we spend too much time looking at others (and what they have), instead of looking within and identifying what it is that we really need. the good news is that our creator knows what we need. and if we let him, he can “fix” us. he can “fill” us. he can make us feel whole. and he does this by showing us how to love ourselves for who we really are.

i want to feel whole. but it goes beyond me. i want the stanleys and tobys of this world to feel whole too.

perspective

my life is a lot like a splotch.
some days it looks like a stain
and others,
an amazing work of art.

the way

faith seems much more
like an unfinished piece of art
than a slick and pretty picture –
with many bits
and pieces of truth
being added (one by one)
along the way.

journey

my journey is not from left to right
from north to south
rather, it’s from inward to outward.

dying to live

another poem by walt whitman caught my attention last night. and the message was pretty clear. parts of me need to die in order to fully live. parts of me have died, but parts of me still need to pass on – without lament.

o living always – always dying

o living always—always dying!
o the burials of me, past and present!
o me, while i stride ahead,
material, visible, imperious as ever!
o me, what i was for years, now dead,
(i lament not – i am content;)
o to disengage myself
from those corpses of me,
which i turn and look at,
where i cast them!
to pass on, (o living! always living!)
and leave the corpses behind!

© walt whitman

integrity

a friend challenged a group of us over the weekend to spend some time thinking about the existence of integrity in our lives. and to think about whether or not we are actually pursuing integrity. according to webster’s dictionary, integrity is the idea of being incorruptible, sound, and complete (or undivided). i like that idea and i like the idea of being that kind of person, but i can hear a voice in my head saying, “you? good luck. you’re a broken-down, mess of a man who fails all of the time. do you really think...”

okay, so is it even possible?

i want to be a man of integrity, but by definition, it seems unattainable and something that perhaps, can only be pursued. in fact, i think it would be highly arrogant of me to think that i could ever be incorruptible. i think it would be foolish of me to think that i will always remain sound. and to think that i could ever be complete is unfathomable. and so my immediate reaction is that i can’t be that which i want to be – game over, let the sulking begin. and yet i know people who i consider to be living lives of integrity. so how does this all work?

here are a few thoughts.

integrity is not perfection. integrity is not the “little picture.” and integrity does not focus on short-comings. no one is incorruptible, sound, or undivided (regardless of appearances.) we are all human and we all make mistakes. but we can’t dwell on those mistakes and forget the good that surrounds them. we need to evaluate integrity in the larger picture of a person’s life – where we step back and look at chunks of time rather than slivers. where we look at track records instead of individual races. where we look at seasons instead of moments. i do that (or at least i try to do that). it may be inconsistent from person to person, but i’m working on it. here is a scary reality though. i find it a lot easier to evaluate others within this context of flexibility than i do myself. i can say “i do that” with others, but do i do it with myself? not often. for some reason, i hold myself to a higher (almost unattainable) standard, with unimaginable expectations. why do i do that? i expect so much from myself and often find that i’m living under this shadow of darkness – keeping me from the life of integrity that god desires for me.

there needs to be grace.

this friend went on to talk about how large a role “shame” plays in keeping us from a life of integrity. we want to look good on the outside and yet we are falling apart on the inside. our inner selves and outer selves are divided. and we are ashamed of revealing the truth – of letting people see our reality. the shame that we feel (and hold onto) overpowers the grace that god has for us. lauryn hill (on one of her albums) talks about the differences between fantasy and reality. and the reality is that we all have issues. we all have things in our lives that we are ashamed of. she says that we are all in the same boat, dealing with the same stuff. and yet we continue to put on a show because we are afraid to admit to others that we don’t have it all together. we are afraid to admit the truth and through grace, find comfort in that truth. why? because we have accepted a lie. we have accepted the idea that there are some people who do have it all together. and that’s just not true. no one has it all together. they have simply found a way to mask their pain, their brokenness, and their shame.

it’s time to lose the shame in your game. or is it lose the game in your shame?

it’s a bit odd to me because as i tried to identify those areas of my life that i was ashamed of, i couldn’t. that’s not to say that there aren’t things in my life that shouldn’t be there or that discourage me (or perhaps that i’m not admitting), but for the most part, i can’t really find anything that i’m ashamed of. wait, that’s not true. there are things that i’m ashamed of, but i’m not ashamed of who i am. i am who i am. and i’m okay with that – broken and all. and i think that there is a great deal of integrity in that. one of webster’s definitions for corrupt is “to alter from the original or correct form or version.” interesting, don’t you think? by acknowledging the true me, i am actually being the opposite of corrupt. and i find soundness and unity in that. that would make me a man of integrity. that would make me the kind of man that i didn’t think i could become. that would mean that integrity is attainable.

one final thought. i think we are all concerned about how others perceive us – the real us, the inner us. so we try to fix all of our imperfections. we fail, we fall short, and we often screw the whole thing up. and our immediate reaction is to get out the tools and patch the cracks. we think that we should fix them in order to look more appealing. but what if the cracks are simply a way of letting the inner integrity in all of us spill out? what if it’s actually the mistakes and failures that reveal integrity (rather than the lack of them)? now there’s a thonder.

joyous leaves

i was reading a book of walt whitman poems yesterday and came across the following. it reminds me that we were created to be in relationship with others. however, it also reminded me that our creator can do miraculous things (in us and through us) while we are adventuring alone. for, in fact, we are not alone. (i’m grateful for reminders.)

i saw in louisiana a live-oak growing

i saw in louisiana
a live-oak growing,
all alone stood it
and the moss hung down
from the branches,

without any companion
it grew there
uttering joyous leaves of dark green,
and its look, rude, unbending, lusty,
made me think of myself,

but i wonder’d how it could
utter joyous leaves
standing alone there
without its friend near,
for i knew i could not,

and i broke off a twig
with a certain number of
leaves upon it,
and twined around it a little moss,
and brought it away,

and i have placed it in sight in my room,
it is not needed to remind me
as of my own dear friends,
(for i believe lately i think of little else
than of them,)

yet it remains to me a curious token,
it makes me think of manly love;
for all that, and though the live-oak
glistens there in louisiana
solitary in a wide flat space,

uttering joyous leaves all its life
without a friend a lover near,
i know very well i could not.

© walt whitman

i am there

do you need me?
i am there.

you cannot see me, yet i am the light you see by.
you cannot hear me, yet i speak through your voice.
you cannot feel me, yet i am the power at work in your hands.

i am at work, though you do not understand my ways.
i am at work, though you do not understand my works.
i am not strange visions. i am not mysteries.

only in absolute stillness, beyond self, can you know me
as i am, and then but as a feeling and a faith.

yet i am there. yet i hear. yet i answer.
when you need me, i am there.
even if you deny me, i am there.
even when you feel most alone, i am there.
even in your fears, i am there.
even in your pain, i am there.

i am there when you pray and when you do not pray.
i am in you, and you are in me.
only in your mind can you feel separate from me,
for only in your mind are the mists of “yours” and “mine.”
yet only with your mind can you know me and experience me.

empty your heart of empty fears.
when you get yourself out of the way, i am there.
you can of yourself do nothing, but i can do all.
and i am in all.

though you may not see the good, good is there,
for i am there. i am there because i have to be, because i am.

only in me does the world have meaning;
only out of me does the world take form;
only because of me does the world go forward.
i am the law on which the movement of the stars
and the growth of living cells are founded.

i am the love that is the law’s fulfilling.
i am assurance.
i am peace.
i am oneness.
i am the law that you can live by.
i am the love that you can cling to.
i am your assurance.
i am your peace.
i am one with you.
i am.

though you fail to find me, i do not fail you.
though your faith in me is unsure,
my faith in you never wavers,
because i know you, because i love you.

beloved, i am there.

© 1947 james dillet freeman

apprentice

i’m starting to realize that i’m simply an apprentice in this thing called life. for some reason, i’ve thought that life was a lot like a college degree – where i study and experience and then go out into the world to use and apply all that i’ve learned. you know, like an equation – you figure out what works and implement it for successful results.

ha. ha, ha. ha, ha, ha. (can you hear me laughing?)

why do i think that i should have life figured out yet? and what makes me think that i will ever have it figured out? i’m just now starting to realize that i may always be an apprentice – continually learning from my master. and what’s interesting to me, is that there is actually a bit of relief in that revelation.

taking a step back to get a closer look

i spent some time with a friend yesterday who made the following statement while discussing spirituality. he said, “sometimes i find myself needing to take a step back in order to get a closer look.” and in the context of our conversation, it made complete sense to me. in another context, it may have seemed like an oxymoron. but at that time and at that place, it didn’t. it just made sense. and over the past twenty-four hours or so, i’ve been thinking a lot more about the idea of oxymorons in my life. or perhaps the notion that things don’t always need to make sense.

why have i convinced myself that everything needs to make sense in my life? why can’t i be more open to looking at life in ways that don’t (make sense)? why do i limit my point of view based on background, upbringing, teaching, beliefs, etcetera? perhaps it’s because my mind, heart, and spirit keep looking at things through the same filter. don’t misunderstand me. i’m not saying that filters are bad. in fact, i think that filters can by good and healthy. but often, i see myself (and others) creating filters that are fixed. they are closed instead of open. and the idea of change is out of the question. we tend to interpret life from one point of view – the same point of view – over and over and over again. and when you look at things from only one point of view, you tend to think that your view is the right view as well as the only view. a bit scary.

i want to do a better job of considering things that don’t make sense to me. i want to do more digging. i want to probe and question more. i want to test and experiment more. i want to stop filling in the blanks of my life (and others) with answers simply because they make sense. (in most cases, they’re not the right answers anyway.) i want to be okay with things that don’t make sense. i want to be an oxymoron. (i think.)

so, what will that require?

it will require me to think bigger in order to think smaller. it will require me to get the overview before i can craft the summary. it will require me to go to the back of the line so that everything is now in front of me. and it will require me to step back in order to get closer.

can we cross now?

i received an email the other day that contained several letters that children had written to god. one of these caught my attention. “you don’t have to worry about me. i always look both ways.” dean

i often think that i have things under control. actually, that isn’t really true. i often think the opposite – that i never have things under control. my life seems routine, but chaotic and random and rarely on course. it’s just that i want to think that i have things under control.

as i parent, i know what it’s like to worry about my children. and to be honest, i really do want god to worry about me. why? because i want the attention from the one i seek to know in deeper ways. i’m tired of acting like i have it all together and that i can make it on my own – because i can’t. i’ve been broken too many times to know that i just can’t do it. i’m still broken in many areas of my life and i need help healing, moving, discerning, etcetera.

now, i do look both ways, but perhaps i’m so anxious to get to the other side of wherever, that often i see only what i want to see. however, god can see those things approaching that i miss. and he is able to grab me before i take that fatal step. and yet i don’t think he ever does grab me. in fact, i don’t think he ever keeps me from moving. he may warn me through an inner voice, the voice or action of a friend, or some kind of natural (or unnatural) phenomenon, but he never forces me to do (or not to do) anything.

it’s interesting, because i feel like i spend most of my time on the curb. no, i think i spend most of my time moving from one side to the other. and yet when i finally do make it across, i often find myself on a median, with another crossing in front of me. (my life is a life of medians.) it’s frustrating and i find that while my body is moving, my mind is worrying about being run over. i’m questioning my decisions all of the time – when what i really want is just to get to the other side and find a bit of happiness and joy.

so, i think that when i reach the other side, i’ll find happiness and joy, right? but i rarely make it to the other side. and i sit here, at a crossroads (or on the median), asking myself these questions. can’t there be joy in the crossing? can’t there be joy in the waiting on the curb? can’t i just grab the hand of my father and let him lead me when it’s safe?

i really want to take my father’s hand, and i try, but it doesn’t seem that easy. i don’t always feel his grasp and i wonder if he is really there or not. and why wouldn’t he be there? does he want me to try this thing by myself? did i forget to tell him where i was planning on going? and doing? did i not tell him on purpose? well, i’m telling him now.

god, i need to be led. i need you to worry about me. i need to know that you’re thinking about me. that you care about me. and i need help trusting that you know better than i do.

can we cross now?

a good reminder from africa

i stumbled across an african proverb last week that intrigued me. not only the proverb itself, but the explanation of its background as well. it’s a good reminder for me to really listen and discern – listening to the words, but also paying close attention to the motives, of the person speaking. it’s also a good reminder for me to surround myself with people who truly care about me and have my best interests at heart. perhaps god can/will use these individuals to be the voice (or at least confirm the voice) that i have been seeking. here is what i found.

tuareg proverb
ta n-ameri salah, ta n-amiksan sadsa.

english translation
the (word) of a friend makes you cry; the (word) of an enemy makes you laugh.

background, explanation and everyday use
the tuaregs are a nomadic people of the central and western sahara and along the middle niger from tombouctou to nigeria. interpersonal relationships are very close and tight in the tuareg society.

advice given by someone who has your best interests at heart is sometimes unpleasant and even painful, but the person who seeks your downfall may deliberately encourage you toward hidden danger with advice that seems pleasant and good. this tuareg proverb is used in two ways: either as an encouragement to take harsh advice from a friend in the spirit it is intended, or as a warning not to follow the deceptively attractive advice of someone who doesn't have our interests at heart.

biblical parallels
proverbs 27:6: “well meant are the wounds a friend inflicts, but profuse are the kisses of an enemy.”

contemporary use and religious application
for the tuaregs and indeed for all people everywhere, there is a great need for discernment regarding the company we keep and the advice we take.

voices

i don’t like struggles. who does? but i was reminded last night that struggles have the ability form and shape us. both the struggle itself and the way in which we respond. but can i be honest here? i’m tired. and i’m guessing that i’m not alone in my thinking. struggles suck. i struggle as a father. i struggle as a son. i struggle with sin. i struggle in relationships. i struggle at work. i struggle all of the time.

and although the struggle is often without (meaning external), i’m finding that the struggle is constant within. there are voices in my head that constantly chatter. they say so many different things. they remind me of the past. they tell me that they can interpret the present. and they try to predict the future. there is the good voice and the bad voice. the right voice and the wrong voice. the shouting voice and the whispering voice. the encouraging voice and the accusing voice. lots and lots of voices. and this is the struggle that i dislike the most.

sometimes i just want silence. or peace. or rest. and yet i don’t always do well in those settings. why? because it’s not familiar. as much as i dislike the chatter, i’ve gotten used to it. (it may not be healthy, but it’s familiar.)

part of me wishes that there was a short period in my life where struggle failed to exist. and instead, there would be nothing but blessings. good things that would bring joy and freedom and life. a time where tensions would vanish. where disagreements would go on their fifteen minute break. where sibling rivalry would take a vacation. where temptation would bury it’s head in the sand. growth doesn’t only occur in the midst of struggle, right? i have to believe that we can be formed and shaped by good experiences too. and yet i know that struggle has its place. at least that’s what one voice is telling me.

the trick here may be to figure out which voice to actually listen to. (much easier said than done.) in a perfect world, we would be able to find the voice of truth because the others would fail to exist. but because of experiences, failures, wounds, etcetera, we have been confused. we have been turned into unbelieving creatures who want proof and usually question until we find it. we’ve been lied to. distracted. cheated. abused. taken advantage of. used. and often, it becomes very difficult to focus on the one voice that desires to speak truth into our lives. we don’t know which voice to believe anymore.

i want to find the voice that speaks truth to me. the one that says good things about me. the one that encourages me. and although i may need to search a bit, i have this odd feeling that when i find it, it will sound very familiar. i don’t know that i’ll be able to explain it, but somehow, i will recognize it. and it will all have been worth the struggle – the struggle that is effectively forming and shaping me into the man that god desires for me to be. and with that goal in mind, i will struggle along.

there is a japanese proverb that says “fall seven times, stand up eight.” and although is seems easier sometimes to just stay on the ground, i will always get back up. i have to. i need to. i want to. and there’s a voice telling me that i’ll be better for it.

painfully inflamed

i’ve been getting angry lately. angry at life. angry at the enemy. and angry at god. (i think.) life is seeming more and more like a requirement to me instead of privilege. i feel like i am required to be here and for the most part, am not really enjoying myself. (perhaps this is just a season, but that season keeps returning.) there is dysfunction. there is chaos. there is oppression. there is struggle. and i’m not talking about what i’ve been seeing in the world, i’m talking about what i’ve been seeing in myself. i’ve been telling myself (and others) lately that god want so much more – and that we aren’t really living the life that god intended. and i strongly believe that. but that statement does very little beyond its attempt to inspire an attitude adjustment.

one of the definitions that webster’s dictionary gives for the word “angry” is “painfully inflamed.” interesting definition, isn’t it? interesting to me anyway, because that’s exactly how i feel. i feel pain all over. physical. emotional. spiritual. intellectual. maybe the word “sore” is more accurate. i feel sore. or maybe uncomfortable. but that lack of comfort usually leads to irritation and ultimately pain. (do you like how i took you full circle there?) there is always something that seems to be under attack and i’m finding it really hard to sustain any kind of joy or happiness. sure there are moments (of happiness) and i am always appreciative of those moments. moments by myself. moments with my kids. moments with friends. but why do those moments seem so brief and often overshadowed by moments of sadness? and i’m not sure that “sadness” really encompasses all that i’m talking about. loneliness. despair. depression. hopelessness. brokenness. failure. embarrassment. timidness. etcetera. i just don’t get it. if god intends for us (his followers) to let our light shine and if light is supposed to overpower the darkness, why does it feel so dark most of the time?

whose fault is it? is it god’s fault for not giving me the joy that i seek? is it the enemy’s fault for successfully distracting me from what’s really important? is it my fault for carrying around so much baggage and overanalyzing everything? and how does all of this work in a fallen world?

one of the things that i’ve really started to understand over the past couple of months is this whole idea of recognizing truth. seriously, it’s really got me jazzed. i think it’s important to distinguish between truth and lies, reality and fantasy, and the ability to focus instead of being distracted. however, this also has me a bit freaked out. i need help distinguishing. i’m not always very good at it. as a follower of jesus, i’ve been promised the holy spirit who will help me navigate some of these things (or all of these things) but i don’t always feel that spirit. and maybe that’s the big question in all of this. what in the world am i supposed to do when i can’t feel this spirit (or god) directing me. i know he’s there. i believe it. but i can’t always feel him.

here’s another question. how am i supposed to feel joy when i can’t feel god? how am i supposed to feel happiness in the midst of struggle? this can’t be what god intended. in fact, in the garden, he used to walk and talk with adam and eve. and even after sin found its way into the world, he walked and talked with others. there was abraham. there was elijah. there were other prophets. then jesus came to earth and walked and talked. walking with individuals. walking with crowds. walking with multitudes. and after jesus left, he promised to leave his spirit to walk and talk with us. so there is a history of god coming in the form of himself, jesus, and the holy spirit, and walking and talking with people. why not me? or why doesn’t it feel that way?

i want to feel him. i want to feel “full.” i want to feel “whole.” and i don’t.

so i’m asking myself, “do i have the right to feel angry?” and “who am i supposed to be angry with?”

i’m not really looking for your answer here. instead, i’m hoping that god will answer. (and hopefully i will have the patience to wait for his reply.)

seven things that i want

i want to be happy
i want to be loved
i want to be pursued
i want to learn
i want to journey with others
i want to be in community
i want to grow

breathe

if i was created
as a unique,
one-of-a-kind
individual
with special gifts
and purpose,
why does it feel
like i am
often wearing
a costume?

what am i
ashamed of;
afraid of?

at times,
i wish
that i could
escape
through a
trap door
and find
solace and peace
in an isolated
place.

why am i
gasping;
suffocating?

i need you
to remind me –
breathe life
into me –
so that i can shed
all that i am not
and live
as you
created me
to be.

inspired by a friend
© 2006 Kris E. Lindquist

lifted

i felt the
warmth
of the sun
on my face
today.
i turned
towards
the window
and closed
my eyes.
the light
penetrated
the darkness
within and
my spirit
felt lifted.

© 2006 Kris E. Lindquist

want

i’m afraid
to trust myself.
i can’t see you,
hear you,
feel you,
yet i know
you are there.

something in
my spirit
tells me so,
but i want
to know
beyond any
doubt.

the voices,
thoughts,
impressions
that i have,
are they you
or are they
me?

where is
the clarity
i seek –
that i keep
asking for
and desiring
deep within?

i want
an encounter,
an interaction,
answers
to the questions
that are
there.

© 2006 Kris E. Lindquist

distractions

anything
that excludes
you
is simply a
distraction.
you are
invited
into all
but show up
for only
a portion
of that which
i do –
things,
activities,
events,
moments.

© 2006 Kris E. Lindquist

beginning to curl

i’m still processing the loss of relationship in my life, but am starting to find a bit of healing in all of the muddlement. (is that even a word?) i’ve been in such a dark place, and still find myself drawn to the shadows, but i am starting to see some light. the first ray of light came in the form of a quote that i had written down some time ago, but had recently rediscovered as i was looking through some old files on my computer. the quote said, “don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” now, that’s a lot easier said than done, but it does give me a completely different perspective on the past eight months of my life. in fact, it really could give me a completely different perspective on the past thirty-four years. why? well, i think it’s forcing me to look at the positive outcomes in my circumstances as opposed to the negative. (which i so often do.)

subconsciously, i was aware of this concept within the first week of separation, but i think that it may have been a bit forced – forced in the sense that i was doing it not because it was the right thing to do, but because i thought it was the right thing to do. i soon realized the wisdom in what i had done. i remember asking myself if i thought that i was a better person as a result of this relationship, or if i had become worse. surprisingly, i was able to list ten areas of my life where i had seen improvements. wow! ten? i am a better father. i have a better understanding of the importance of friendship. i have a better understanding of the importance of community. i’ve encountered people of faith who live very differently than i do. i’ve learned so much about the world. it’s amazing. and i found it easier to appreciate the gift that i was given – the gift that i was able to hold and cherish – instead of dwelling on the fact that the gift was taken away. (okay, i still think about the “taking away” part, but just not as much.)

now, anyone who really knows me, knows that my mind is constantly working. i think way too much. it’s as if there are voices that are constantly speaking and they continuously chatter – this side of the coin, that side of the coin – playing out every possible scenario. it’s both a blessing and a curse. and this loss of relationship has given these voices plenty to talk about. what’s worse is that my memory is incredibly sharp, which means that i virtually remember every hour, minute, and second of this relationship – where we were, what we were doing, what was being said – every detail. there were times when my brain literally felt like a busy restaurant with conversations happening everywhere, all at the same time.

but in the midst of all of this, there was something very interesting that started to happen. it started towards the end of last week. i can’t explain it. it just happened. thoughts continued to form in my mind, but instead of playing out each thought, i found the corners of my mouth starting to curl and a silly grin forming on my face. i couldn’t figure out what was going on. was i just trying to cover up the pain? was i so completely messed up that my body was starting to freak out? i’m not sure. but one thought that i had is that i was finally experiencing what it meant to take every thought captive. i think that i was beginning to realize that all of these thoughts weren’t going to change a thing. i couldn’t go back and change the past. i couldn’t figure out what was going to happen in the future. and the present? how in the world did i have any clue what was going on in the present? what was i thinking? what was she thinking? i could easily form all kinds of scenarios and possibilities, but none of them based on facts. they would all have been based on assumptions. what’s the point? and then it hit me. all of these thoughts were simply distractions. and i was finding humor in the idea that the enemy was messing with me and trying to distract me – over and over and over again.

what i realized is this. the only power that the enemy can have in my life is the power that i give him. and i’m tired of giving him anything. i want to give to those that are a part of my life. i want to give to those that cross my path. i want to give to those who are in need. i want to give to my family, my friends, and my community. no more distractions. no more lies. and no more living in a place that feels so controlling and empty. this is what i need. i need to live a life that is filled with joy. i need to feel whole and fully alive. i need to glow. i’m certainly not there yet, and it will probably be slow going, but i can feel the desire within me to start pursuing that kind of life. a life that is filled with light, not darkness. i imagine that it’s warm there. and i’ve heard that the air is thick with hope. and as i sit here writing – pondering that kind of life – i can feel the corners of my mouth beginning to curl.

a broken heart

i’ve been reading and thinking quite a bit about relationships over the past couple of weeks. why? perhaps it’s because my heart was recently broken by one that i loved. and it’s left me hurting, wanting, questioning, pondering, doubting, crying, writing, and processing. most of all, it’s left my mind, heart, body, and soul feeling numb all over.

there are moments when i just want to jump right in and find someone else to love. and then there are moments when i think that i will never pursue another romantic relationship again. what’s the point of putting myself in a position to be hurt again, right? and yet i know that there can be such huge rewards when we take risks. (at least that’s what i try to tell myself.)

i’m tired of being hurt. and to be honest, i am feeling angry. first towards the enemy who i believe is out to distract us and get us off course, and ultimately keep us from the life that god intends for us. but i’ve also been feeling angry towards god. i feel as if the relationship that i had was a gift from him and yet he allowed it to be taken from me. why would he do that? actually, i know why, but it sucks. free will. i have a choice and those i am in relationship with have a choice as well. and when those choices don’t line up, someone usually gets hurt. so then, if god knew that i was going to get hurt, why would he have even put me in that position? couldn’t he have protected me from it all together? you don’t give someone a gift and then take it away, do you? i honored that gift and poured everything i had into it, but here i sit, spent and alone.

and then there are the munchkins. whether they like it or not – whether they understand it or not – they are expected to play along in all of this. they have experienced joy and pain just like me in this relationship. i’m happy for the joy, but feel responsible for the pain. i try to explain, but i don’t know that they really get it. and i wonder sometimes what they are learning about relationships from me. (probably an entirely different blog.)

i think that the tragedy in all of this is that i don’t know that i will ever be able to pour myself into anyone whole-heartedly again. there will always be this voice in the back of my head, or on my shoulder, or in my stomach (you get the idea) that will whisper doubt into my ear and challenge my ability to trust. outside voices tell me that in time, i will be able to love again, to pursue again, and to trust again, but i worry that the damage has already been done. and even though i know that god can heal me, i doubt my own ability to let go of this newly acquired baggage (conveniently relabeled “self-preservation”) so that he could actually do it.

(insert sigh here) . . . it seems like when my heart broke, some other things must have broken as well.

does jesus hurt?

i’ve been thinking a lot about how much it hurts to pour everything you have into someone, only to have them pull back and ask that the relationship be less than it was. initially, this is devastating. it can cause some very deep wounds and a boatload of hurt. but then, over time, the hurt turns to sadness and the sadness to acceptance and we find that we can boldly move forward. in some cases, we move forward with the other individual – in the capacity that they’ve requested. and in other cases, we simply walk away – leaving the relationship behind altogether.

now, what’s interesting about all of this, is how quickly we can discard our feelings for those that pull away from us. since the relationship doesn’t seem to be working out the way that we had wanted or intended (and because we don’t like to be wounded), we try to convince ourselves that the feelings we once had, need to be abandoned. we simply try to get rid of them – in whatever way we can. for some, this process takes days, and for others, months or even years. but isn’t it interesting how quickly we begin to search for someone else – once that process is complete?

you see, we have something inside of us that is longing to be filled by relationships. and when they (those relationships) don’t seem to be fulfilling or meeting all of our expectations – or when they deteriorate – we immediately start looking for someone else to fill that empty spot in our lives. we typically don’t wait because we are under the impression that we must have mistaken the relationship (or individual) for something that it wasn’t. or we think that we completely misread the situation. or that we acted out of desire instead of reason. but where do trust and hope fit into all of this? what if that person really was (or is) “the one?” do we ever hold on and wait?

well, i don’t have the answers. and i can tell you from personal experience that these types of situations are incredibly difficult to process and work through. in fact, it’s not an enjoyable experience at all – to have someone draw near and then pull away. and often, i find myself complaining, whining, and just sitting in a puddle of discouragement. and then it hit me. i wonder if this is exactly how christ feels – at times. he passionately pursues us with everything that he has and yet too often, we pull back and desire for the relationship to be less complicated and less involved. we want the relationship to be on our terms – where we feel comfortable and we can maintain some kind of control. sometimes, we stay in the relationship, but there are also times when we might actually walk away.

the good news for us, is that jesus is omnipotent. he knows that this is the perfect relationship. and because he knows that we are “the one,” he waits for us. he doesn’t start looking for someone to replace us – to replace the role that we would play in his life (or in his kingdom). but i do wonder how he feels. is he devastated? does he get discouraged? does he hurt? maybe the pain that i feel in relationships isn’t really that big of a deal in the big scheme of things. perhaps i should be paying more attention to my relationship with christ. here’s a thought...i can so easily be hurt by the one who doesn’t respond to my pursuit, but am i actively responding to christ’s pursuit of me? ahhh, more on my long list of things to think about.

sign

i looked in the mirror this morning, but i couldn’t see it. why couldn’t i see it? it seems like everyone else can. but for some reason i can’t. i’m talking about the big sign on my forehead that reads, “i’m a nice guy. i won’t care. go ahead and let me down.”

i’ve felt let down by family, friends, and co-workers many times in my life and every time it happens, it hurts. not just a little, but a ton. people just don’t get it. they don’t understand that when you break your word, it’s like saying, “you’re just not as important to me as this other thing that i want or need to do.” or in some cases, “you’re just not important.” sure there are times when commitments need to be broken – for work or an emergency – but when the reason given is an excuse of some kind, it simply hurts. the disappointment eventually passes. the frustration eventually passes. but the feeling of being let down does not. for some reason, it’s hard for that feeling to pass. it lingers. and it plays with my thoughts. it messes with the way that i see myself and the way in which i see others.

there have been very few times in my recent life when i’ve broken a commitment or not done what i said i would do. that’s not to say that i haven’t, and it’s not to say that i’m better than anyone else. that’s not why i follow through. i follow through because i know how it feels to be on the other end. i know the importance of people’s feelings and how imperative it is for people to feel valued – for me to feel valued.

so, why does this keep happening to me? do people think that being let down has no emotion attached? do they honestly think that i will just accept the fact that they bailed on me and feel nothing? what am i missing? where is that sign? and what exactly does it say?

damn little spider

i battle the extremes of hope – feeling either hopeful or hopeless – on a continual basis and it really wears on me. i find myself gravitating towards one and then the other. it’s random and it varies from situation to situation. and in some cases, i bounce back and forth in the very same situation. it occurs all of the time, but most often it occurs in the unknown – meaning that i’m asking my mind, heart, and spirit to fill in the blanks of those events or situations in my life that i have absolutely no clue about (but think that it would be useful to figure out both in advance and on my own). it’s stupid, very stupid. i wish that i could just latch on to one and discard the other because at the very least, it would seem consistent, and thus eliminate the battle. (at least that’s what i tell myself.) but it seems impossible. and it really makes no sense to think that a life of hopelessness is even an option when the alternative is a life filled with hope, right?

so, i’ve been thinking about this a lot and here is best way i know how to describe it. it’s as if i have a spider stuck in my body that continually spins a web and relentlessly moves around – back and forth, side to side, top to bottom – setting traps for me to deal with. at times i find myself avoiding the web, moving through the spaces that still exist as i enter into the world of healthy imagination. i can picture the wonderful possibilities that lie before me and with those images come a sense of hope that brings peace, understanding, and contentment. other times, i find myself stuck in the web, trying aimlessly to get free, but instead finding my own efforts to be making things worse rather than better. it is in this time of struggle that i find myself in the world of damaging assumptions. i can so easily picture the most negative scenarios that lead to a sense of hopelessness. and with this hopelessness comes confusion, resentment, and despair. two different worlds with two entirely different sets of feelings and emotions. i think that god would want me to live in the world that brings hope, but it’s so easy to fall into the world of hopelessness. why is it so easy to assume the worst – not only in others, but in myself as well? doesn’t the whole idea of hopelessness contradict the idea of faith in one’s life? isn’t faith supposed to provide hope? and if i have faith, why do i so often feel hopeless?

obviously, there is some kind of disconnect and i need to find it. but honestly, i’m not quite sure where to look. i feel disconnected all over sometimes. my mind feels disconnected at times. my heart feels disconnected at times. and even my spirit feels disconnected at times. the worst is when all three feel disconnected at the very same time. those times in my life are the worst in that i tend to retreat and try to carry every burden on my own. however, those times also force me to realize that i need help and push me into a deeper relationship with god. and that’s when the hope starts to return – clearing away the cobwebs that keep finding their way back into my life. it feels good to clear away those pesky cobwebs, but what really irritates me is that i never seem to get rid of the spider. sometimes it’s a thought. sometimes a feeling. sometimes a voice. i hate that little spider because it robs me of the life and greatness that god intended for me. damn that little spider. (this is where i silently count to ten.)

okay, so maybe those times aren’t as bad as they seem. (i can’t believe i’m saying that.) my instinct is to find the cause of my hopelessness and get rid of it so that i can live a life that is in a perpetual state of hope. it would feel so much better. but is that really the best thing for me? if my relationship with god grows deeper as a result of hopelessness, would it become stale and predictable if i continually lived in a state of hope? perhaps god wants me to enter into periodic times of hopelessness so that he can hold me and love me and speak to me. perhaps it’s the hopelessness that maintains the hopefulness in my relationship with god. and that would mean that i need to actually appreciate the role that hopelessness plays in my life, doesn’t it? hmmm, i’ll have to think about this a bit more.