To Care and Not to Care

  I need something organic and moldable right now. I need to know that I am held in my Creator's hands, even as He prunes and snips and carves and adds a little here and takes away a little there. This last year and half has been a time of great re-shaping. And as I enter this season of Advent, wondering how in the world did such a Word become flesh. Well, that's beyond me. "Conversion" By Marci Johnson How can word become flesh? Belly. Bone.  Tongue--the feel in the mouth a word rolling around. Word, not a kiss not the thing itself--a name.  The arch of a foot. Your face in my hands, just  a name. Blue sky lolling beyond the window frame--eyes open. Just a way of looking.  Begin with a change.

  "None of this matters if you can't share it with people you love" "To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find eachother, and to feel. That is the purpose of life. "  - The Secret Life of Walter Mitty I read this assignment yesterday, the day before Thanksgiving. I thought, ok, this is my job. To see the world and report back. So I spent the day remaining in what can be at times, an overwhelming place. Family is complex isn't it? We are complex. I'm learning that it's ok to let it all be what it is. And there are these in-between spaces where grace and mercy resides.  Happy Thanksgiving. 

  A Poem From a Comfort Addict  Get a picture with dirt she says. (Take your shoes off) Let the cold and wet and pungent soil seep into my skin and remind me of what's real.  (Wash your hands) Do I need clean spaces in order to function? (Yes) Can I function in mess? (Yes, but I don't want to) Sometimes I want to tame the wild. Out of my house, my kids, me. I want to shut the windows, cut and prune and tidy until I can finally breathe a sigh of relief and say, "There, now I can rest." But maybe the wild is meant to tame us?  What do we do when all of the world is at odds with itself and we are too? What do we do when this East of Eden curse drives us to devastating dominion? Life is cut off at the root. We gasp. We cling. We struggle. We kick and scream. We wrap our blankets around us a little tighter. ("A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit...The nations will rally to him,  and his resting place will be glorious&qu

  "And I know it makes you nervous But I promise you, it's worth it To show 'em everything you kept inside Don't hide, don't hide Too shy to say, but I hope you stay Don't hide away Come out and play." The juxtaposition between staying in and working, the tightness, close-fisted, wrinkle in my eyebrows...evidence of being "responsible" - a grown up. ( a daily struggle for me!) Ah but,  when the windows fly open, when life swoops in and graciously (and rather offensively!) lands our inner-most gifts into the hands of others, well.  The wrinkle fade from our foreheads, our hands open, gratitude seeps into our hearts, fear and shame dissipate, and all that's left is wonder. The best invitation that play can offer.

  "When everything is dark, when we are surrounded by despairing voices, when we do not see any exits, then we can find salvation in a remembered love, a love that is not simply a wistful recollection of a bygone past but a living force that sustains us in the present. Through memory, love transcends the limits of time and offers hope at any moment in our lives." - Henri Nouwen "So your story does have a happy ending?" "Well that's up to you. The story's yours now." - Life of Pi REACHING Rewind, replay This mixtape in my mind. Circle back, toss and turn until I am devoured by my own addictive viscous cycle. Somebody has to win this argument, right? I'm right, you're wrong. Why did I step foot in this dichotomous arena? Somebody has to lose. Those are the rules. Somebody has to die. These memories become my present, which becomes my future. I yearn for them to stop.  There is no peace. Where is God in all of this? Where was His loving prese

  It really is amazing how immersing myself in this...speaking beauty and truth over me and my family...truly changed the outlook of my day. I was surprised at what popped out as I looked at magazines. I laughed out loud when I read, "Say Good Morning and Actually Mean It." (I'm horrible with mornings). I've been battling alot of mental resistance lately...does all this focus and attention on me really matter? But I smile when I'm reminded of being a kid while putting this together. If this helps me get out of the sludge, than Lord may it be so. Here are the collection of words for my visual anthem: Finding some stillness in my mind. Conversation for Changemakers and the Curious. Come Dine with us. Love & Mercy. Cultivating Compassion. Handle with Care. Say Good Morning and actually mean it. Something's gone wrong? Good! I don't want to be too careful, I rebel against perfection because flawless perfection is sterile. NATURE. EXPLORE. Storymakers Every

 Today's creative prompt is inspired by the iconic image of the Migrant Mother by Dorothea Lange. The story behind this image you can find here:  I am blown away by Dorothea's assertiveness and trust in her own calling. I'm convicted and inspired by it.  "Next time you have an instinct to turn around, listen to it." Next time I want to bury my talents, hold them tight before I fall asleep and forget them six feet under. May I learn to catch those fireflies and release them for the beauty of the world. May I be ok with not knowing the big picture. I don't need a reason. I need peace. May I be satisfied with the manna that God gives me today, knowing that new manna will come tomorrow. May I scoot up close in the abundance of Christ, knowing that all is made new in Him. May I take that picture, ask the question, look in their eyes, hold their hand, soften my ears and heart, and remove my shoes again and again, for this is holy work. (This is a portrait of two dea

  I am Janell. My name is a variation of Jane which derives from the Hebrew name Yochanon which means God is merciful. I have always felt a deep calling to be with, rather than rule over. When I was little I wanted to be a meteorologist. I still love the weather. I am fascinated and in awe of it, much like God.  Multiple sides and perspectives come easily to me. I can find a common thread in almost anything. Everything and everyone is connected. I am drawn to beautiful stories born out of pain. I love the beauty and empathy that cinema can have. Jane Eyre and Walter Mitty are my kindred spirits. And "The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World is my kindred song. I never grow tired of music.  I have the gift of faith. I thrive above the ice, on the brisk frozen expanse of a clear spacious place. I am moved to reach down and pull up any Imago Dei stuck underneath who can't breath - who needs to know who they are. I light up when I stumble upon common grace in the muddy world. All forms

  THE JOURNEY By Mary Oliver One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began,  though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice -- though the whole house began to tremble  and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voice behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do -- determined to save the only life that you could save.  My husband took this photo of me 9 years ago, in one of our favorite wild places, Leadbetter State Park at the edge of t

   I have an idea for the image I want but I can't get it until tonight. :) I was looking back at some of my images from the other day. This is one of a reflection that I flipped "upside-down. " It makes me think of the first time I heard the term "upside-down kingdom" in reference to the kingdom of God.  Anyway, this pandemic has had its ways with us, no? It's made me see the Upside-down Kingdom all the more clearly. It pressed me down. It pressed my family down. It pressed the Church locally and globally down, down, down and  Out came the precious oil, a balm produced by our own wounds, made new in Christ. Struck down and not destroyed, sure. Our honest tears baptized us. I wanted to tap out sometimes. Why oh God do you demand such suffering? If I tapped out, I could at least have the luxury of blaming myself or others, but if I stayed in the game, I'd have to blame You. I guess that's what You are, Upside-Down Kingdom One, in this world the Struck