On the “Yes-es” (and an update on where I’ve been).

Posted on July 24, 2013 by melissafed

Samwise (my obscenely large dog) is vacillating between chasing the robins out of the yard and laying his giant face in my lap (which is currently full of computer).The solar lights just turned on. The sun is setting, quietly and without any fanfare. And that is where I have been too. Rising and falling beneath the cover of a small life. I rise with little people; cereal and books and fights and SO MUCH MESS. I cook, I clean, I craft and make. Today? We painted rocks to look like lady bugs and bumblebees and painted a tic-tac-toe board on a stump. Life is simple these days. Small.

And. I feel like I’ve lost my voice. Like I have laryngitis of my fingertips. I don’t know why. Every time I post more people than the last time read and I am silenced by the fact that I have no idea who I am writing to. Who do you expect to hear when you tune in and spend your precious time with me? The church lady? Mamma? Melissa? Something else? I don’t know. I start to freeze.

I want to find the voice again though so I am writing (and hitting publish tonight) in spite of myself.

Did I tell you this was the year of “YES”? In the months leading up to O’s birth I felt God calling me to a season of “NO”. Of small, of cocoon, of only spit clothes and diapers and I relished every moment of it. God fed me in those months, no YEARS, like never in my life. He fed me for the sake of myself and my babes and there was no demand that I process it and spit it back out in ministry again. No. He called me to still. To quiet. It was glorious. I learned who I am again. The things I love. What quiet sounds like. What an introvert needs to thrive in an extroverts life.

But. Now. And suddenly. This winter, God said….”Now Melissa, I am calling you to a few YESSES…BUT…not like before. No. Never again like THAT”.

So. I made a point of prayerfully considering what I would step into. Say YES too. Initiate. Plan.

And do you know what? Strange things are afoot friends. I went to a conference and got EXCITED about nursing again (for the first time?) and then within DAYS? I got offered a funded seat in graduate studies. I’ve thought about doing this for years, but was worried it was the wrong time, that I did not know the big WHY?! But now. I do. And I am excited.

Also. I told myself I needed to get moving. That I strangely felt that uncomfortable feeling of not being strong enough to keep up. Of not remembering how to ride my bike. Of just the plan old lazies. I told myself I would say YES to any offers to move. When a friend asked me to coffee, I would say lets walk instead (do you know how many coffees/muffins a pastor’s wife eats in a week…it is a serious concern). Anyways. I somehow started running. Someone said. Lets run this 5 km? I said why not 10? Another friend said…we could do that half marathon you know…I said “Why not?” (that question has subsequently been answered in the negative a thousand times since but still I keep going…16 km on Friday…what in the WHAT?). September 7 friends. For Reals.

And then. There is Thailand. Did I tell you I am heading out in under a month? Speaking at a conference in Pattaya. 3 nights in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster (I have always believed the lyrics were “makes the whole world tremble”…is my Christian showing?). I am trembling a little on this one friends. Flying across oceans from my babies is never a good feeling. But trembling has never been a symptom that you should stop, you know? Life is found on the upside down of fear. On the right side of courage, of selflessness and BRAVE. So off I go; In spite of my terrified self.

I know this sounds like I have a vicious case of the ‘braggies”. Maybe I do. But also, what if you challenged yourself to a few YES-ES!? What if, when you are invited into ministry or sport or challenge or job you stopped selling yourself short and just said YES instead. What would happen then? I would love to hear about it.

It is the quietest Switchback summer in the history of ever so Sam is still here with me. Alternating between whimpering in my lap and running around the yard. There are a few dogs barking tonight, one of the neighbors just shouted… and maybe there was a gun shot. There are few things Samwise approves of less than me being outside alone after nightfall. What a bozo. Also? I adore him.

You too.

Thanks for reading. Any tips on getting my groove back, writing prompts or what you like best about your visits here would be DIAMONDS for me.

Dear E: On the Occasion you complete preschool and I celebrate your ‘muchness’

Posted on June 24, 2013 by melissafed

Dearest E (on the occasion you complete preschool and I celebrate your ‘muchness’),

Just now, we were out in the rain. Our hair, blowing wild as daddy drove us up into the woods. You tipped your face into the rain, let the drops fall into your magnificent eye-lashes, onto your porcelain skinned face. We hit a bump going a bit too fast and I gasped and clung to you, I nearly let you launch out the back. But you? You laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe and asked daddy to go back over it. He of course obliged you. You broke into song. And I marvelled at your ‘muchness’.

You who is the first in the water, the last one out.

You who laughs the loudest and the longest.

You who shouts with passion and bosses your brother with extravagant ferocity (ok…this isn’t my favourite part of your muchness).

You who knows exactly what you want.

You with the dynamic mind that learns things before we teach you. You with the imagination of a magnificient story teller.

You do everything in extreme and excess. And I hope you never try to shrink yourself to fit into someone elses mold of feminine. You are so much more.

This week I went to a conference and a Nigerian woman took the stage and then she took my breath. She spoke with so much grace and authority. And I must tell you, there is something intoxicating about a woman who wears every inch of her flesh, isn’t trying to perpetually shrink. Someone who knows she is more then sex or magazine cliches.

There was a time not so long ago that I watched a mother parent a little girl that was more like a paper doll than a child. She was wholly pliable; bending to her mothers every whim. There was a split second of envy until you barrelled in with mud on your face and a crooked tiara on your messed up hair. You shouted “Want to play with me?”. The little girl shook her head, curled into her moms thigh. “Ok. But if you want to we can play princess fairy kitty soft paws”. I was enthralled by your muchness.

Miss E…I will stand beside you when the world tries to crush you down, tells you your entirely too much and not nearly enough. I love your muchness and I will fight for it. I will point you in the direction you should go and I will watch you run there with reckless courage. When you are tempted to bend to someone elses version of you, I will make you read this letter again. Remind you, who you are at your core, in your God designed heart.

Dear O: On the Occasion you Complete Grade 1 and Learn you are not a Super Hero

Posted on June 13, 2013 by melissafed

Dearest O (on the occasion of finishing grade 1),

I had a bath while you watched t.v. I traced the paths you stretched into me with my finger. The thin red lines that forever changed the way my body appears. I thought about the ways you stretch me now, how it was easier when I forever said goodbye to bikinis. Now? I watch you stretch my heart, how far it can expand without breaking completely. You stretch my ability to trust and not worry (as you learn doughnuts on a quad…I’m pretty sure I said no dirt bikes…but anyways…here we are).

You stretch me. First flesh and now spirit.

I know you feel it too. The first taste of mortality, of flesh. I’ve watched you this year, watched as you learn about your weakness, and perceived failure. It causes my whole body and spirit to heave in the ache with you. About a month ago you got the stomach flu and we both got scared, remembering all those nights in hospital with the unending virus. And you looked at me, your big brown eyes creased with a fear and said “Oh mom, how will I ever be a super hero if so many things trip me up?”. This was, it would seem, the first thought you had that maybe this particular dream might not come true.

Life was easier, wasn’t it? When I made sure that the kids we played with were nice to you, when I choose activities I thought you would succeed at. You have to fail at things now, face conflict and I must confess, it is so hard to watch. In fact it is nearly impossible, because the truth of the mater is I have more faith in you than is logical too…you are a super hero in my universe and my eyes don’t seem to see you with much realism. My pride in you is something like intoxication, all I see is the miraculous wearing flesh, shock and awe that you came to be in our home after all, after I nearly gave up that dream.

I have to tell you the secret though my friend. We are not called to succeed the way the world sees it. I will never hope that for you. You are a part of the upside down kingdom where the last are first and the weak are the strongest. You are called to seek placement with the broken-hearted and the system weary and the unloved ones. You are one of the joy dwellers, the hope bringers, the peace keepers, the light holders. Most of all we are grace chasers, picking the crumbs we need, leaving a trail behind us.

That is a lot of words isn’t it? It boils down to this: Our legacy is love…of God and man. That is all.

So forgive me, when the fear of man looms large and I care more about how you behave than where you heart really is, causes me to compel your facade. Sometimes I want you to be the best athlete, the best student because it is fun to win and because it matters that you work hard in whatever is set before you. Always remember though, your success or failure in any of it doesn’t define your worth, will not change your true status, cannot make your dad and I more or less proud of you. That issue is settled…remember? I have no capacity to see you rightly. I think mamma eyes are glory laden and perhaps we can only see the heaven in our kids…an extraordinary capacity to ignore the hell.

You will stretch me again. You will make me transition again, release you, let you go, trust God with and for you. I will watch you stretch your wings and I will chase behind you with my butterfly net, thinking I can catch you if you fall. Knowing I cannot, but still, I will be there…watching you take off for your very first flight.

Wherever you crash, you will find me there beside you, seeking the hidden treasures and finding ourselves walking on water. We will find beside us those who fall through our societies cracks, the perfectly shaped holes for the meek and mild and we will walk beside them.

With all my love,

The Least Super Mom of All who loves you MOST.

Linking with Emily and friends! I’ve missed you all and look forward to reading!!!

These Days…

Posted on May 28, 2013 by melissafed

These days are dishes and cooking and laundry. These days are dusting and toy sorting and clothes with holes and clothes too short. These days are sibling conflict and home reading and barf buckets. These days are permission slips and parent advisory council fundraisers, soccer practice and birthday parties. These days are full. Full of limbs growing too long, not fitting in my lap like they should.

These days are flower beds planted and lawns mowed and decks swept. These days are repairs made, walls washed (no really I did), and ovens scrubbed.

These days are events planned and articles written and research to do.

Oh. These days.

These days feel like failure and triumph all in the very same moment. These days I am praying the psalms with the passion of the afflicted and the joy of the overcomer…because aren’t we, in Christ, always both?

These days are the longest I have ever gone without contributing to this blog. I don’t know why exactly. At first I was writing furiously in my journal, processing some things. And then I stopped.

These days, sometimes you just keep your head above water.

These days are going fast; a spectacle across the sky, meteoric speed. That is the thing about these days you know, you can completely ignore the extraordinary splendor in them. you can spin so fast you can’t notice the rainbow in the blur of it.

Because you know what? These days are also campfire smoke and sunsets dripping glory. These days are lives turned upside down and right side up for the Kingdom come. These days are lives merged into one and babies touching down on planet earth. These days are relationships restored and relationships built and mercy and goodness and Oh…So much love.

He makes all things new you know. Even when you you feel like you have broken up, broken down, deconstructed to the point you are not sure all the Kings men could patch you up? He can. Even when you are not at all who you hoped to be? He reminds us that the journey is the destination if we face it with the Grace He gives. Face it with humility. Cling to Good with all you’ve still got.

So these days? I miss you blog-o-world. I hope to be back soon.

How to be a Clanging Symbol: In 3 Acts

Posted on April 17, 2013 by melissafed

I hung up the rain coats, straightened the gum boots on the rug. The 100th time today…but this time I wept. How is it that the smallest size listed on those coats is a 5? How did these years fly so fast? Today I have huffed and puffed as I picked up her markers ‘again’, the 700 strings he cut in zip line maintenance, the socks in the middle of the floor from the rush to the hot tub. I missed out on the trip outside. Cleaning up the things that will be back on the ground in ten minutes. I lectured, I stormed, I ranted. I crashed the symbols in their little ears, drowned the sound of all the whispered “I love yous”.

Once upon a time I saw a family at church. The husband and wife were desperate to praise. We don’t offer a kids program yet at this service and so the little girl was beside them with a Barbie doll. The two grown ups would throw their hands in the air reaching for heaven with all their strength, their faces desperate in the act of worship. Or perhaps they were trying to get God down? Kingdom come, NOW. But then. The little girl would make too much noise, kick the seat, jump around and their eyes would fly open they would aggressively tell her to tone it down, march her out of the sanctuary.

The passion of the worship was eclipsed and I thought about that little girl and the symbols going off in her head right now. God is a God of what?

Once upon a time I had a friend. I was envious of her dynamic relationship with God. She was always deep into scripture, going through SOMETHING. God was always teaching her. It was beautiful. Sometimes though, she was so deep in the ‘furnace’ that she could not see out, could not even see those of us in the room with her. Sometimes Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego we were, together in the blazing coals, but she could not see me. She had the capacity to look through me, around me, not even notice I was there.

We watched the figure of God in the furnace there with us but we could not hear the clanging on the metal furnace door, the people left on the outside, asking to join us, despite the risk of burns.

The other night my son crept up the stairs to the pulpit as my husband prayed for someone on stage. He crept up in sweat pants 4 inches too short and my husband wrapped his arm around him as the boy arrived at his leg. There are times in my life when I would have panicked, run, grabbed him. But we’ve made the conscious choice to invite our children into ministry with us. It will not ever be something that takes daddy away from them, it will be what our family does together. We will enjoy it, together. It will be messy. But it will be real.

Our God, He hasn’t called us to a cloistered life, hold up in that cabin all alone. He hasn’t called us to worship Him ONLY when the music is playing. He has not called us to worship at the expense of others. Your life of worship and devotion needs to exist even when the days are busy…more so. Your life of Loving God and man needs to be active ESPECIALLY when we are overwhelmed .

Are there times when you will need to carve out spaces for intimacy with Him alone…YES. But.

Often there are others here too. These kids. This man. These are my primary ministries and the circles of influence as they expand around us. And I cannot honour HIM if I do not honour THEM.

I am a bit of a mystic if I may be so bold. I expect relationship with God, a back and forth. I am prone to the passions, the highest heights the deepest depths…I feel them. And I love to worship too, eyes closed, furnace blazing. But. The clanging symbols in my life can completely eclipse my devotion.

Oh God. Don’t let me add to the noise.

13 If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.

²If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.

^3-7If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.Love cares more for others than for self.Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.Love doesn’t strut,Doesn’t have a swelled head,Doesn’t force itself on others,Isn’t always “me first,”Doesn’t fly off the handle,Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,Doesn’t revel when others grovel,Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,Puts up with anything,Trusts God always,Always looks for the best,Never looks back,But keeps going to the end.

-1 Corinthians 13:

Linking with:

Emily, Jen, Laura, & Jennifer

I See You.

Posted on April 11, 2013 by melissafed

Here, now, across that church foyer, that social gathering:

I see you.

I see how you struggle to fit, the way you shrink or expand depending on the audience.

I see you tying that legalism noose of religion tight on your neck, hanging yourself on the belief that nothing that looks like passion can be part of Gods plan.

I see you there. You with your cup full, wondering why you don’t get to see God making water into wine. Funny how that happens when our malt is overflowing.

I see you, the way you want to please. I see the way you care more about what people think than what is right.

I know because I’ve been you. In the space of one day I’ve been called an oppressive conservative and a raging liberal. I’ve had grown women hide their cigarettes from me, grown men question my intent.

I’ve seen you pulled along these ragged rocks too, the expectation of man. The here and now that shifts like tide, changes like a runway.

And it isn’t just the church you know.

I’ve been called an academic fraud and an intellectual in the same day.

An athlete and a sluggard.

A feminist and a submissive.

A good mom or that my kids ‘run-amuck’.

An environmentalist and a ‘ozone hole producer’.

The atheist might preach the loudest you know? They seem to have a lot to prove to themselves and the world. That says something. All those who preach with themes are struggling. This I know.

Sometimes the most virulent voices are the weakest of faith. I know. I’ve been that.

Those of us that like to live out the question…relish the exploration…we are most prone to grace-less religion when a question demands black and white. Trust me. This is an answer I can give with authority.

So here, now. I want you to know I measure my heart to the standards that don’t change.

Today. I ask for insight from those that lead me.

In this moment, I want feedback from those who I love fiercest.

The rest? With voices that chorus around us? I will hear you.

And my heart will take in the messages that are truth. Those that bring me to my knees and remind me that perhaps, my actions look different from my intent. That… my values are not seen clearly. The things that ring clear with the Truth teller…those I will hear.

But.
Otherwise? Your voice will not paralyze me. I will not cower at your vitriol.

Here now. I hang my coat with the One who sees me rightly. The One I can trust.

Linking with friends this week.

Emily, Ann, Jen, Laura, Lisa-Jo & Jennifer

Country Chronicles: What I’m Into March 2013

Posted on April 4, 2013 by melissafed

I’m into the church services that leave me speechless. Spell bound. Dissolved. I’m into the grief and the celebration of living in community. In one day I prayed with nearly weds and prayed for a wounded one. Life is like that when we tear down some fences. I’m into hanging out in the back where the story is still developing, where the mother grieving a lost son escapes to, where the boys with ADD hang out.

Photo cred…Phil Collins

I am into the bird calls returning, the woodpecker back. I’m into the stellar jays and the robins fighting and the swallows nesting in my bird house. I’m into the mallard pair who nest in the pond each spring and the way earth smells when it thaws.

I am into her blond curls blowing in the spring winds and her dusty rose dress. I am into his construction projects, her endless art. I’m into the dams they build in the creek, the mud they sling, the trail they leave across my floor (well, ok I’m not exactly ‘into’ that, but it is what I am doing).

I am into the sun finally creeping in through filthy windows and the motivation to get stuff done. I’m into cleaning out shelves, turning round furniture.

I’m into this book. There will be more to come on it (and I’ll even give away a copy) but it is feeding into my leanings and I am excited about it. I am back into Game of Thrones though I put it down for a time. I am into reading about marriage again and what it means and how to do it better. I’m into figuring this motherhood thing out, finding a rhythm wherein I still feel like myself. I’m into the poets, finding my attention span short. I think Mary Oliver and I would make fine friends.

I am into feet gathered under my table, spring sun heating our backs. I’m into any excuse I can find to use fresh basil, tomatoes and reduced balsamic vinegar. I’m into risotto, salmon lettuce wraps, black bean salad, chicken fajita soup.

What about you? What is on your ‘best of’ list for March??? On the prowl for some new music…suggestions????

There You Are

Posted on March 26, 2013 by melissafed

There I am,

Throwing palm fronds like a ticker tape parade.

I like the party Jesus, when the going is easy, when the church celebrates.

I will throw down my cloak with the best of them. Let me plan the event, invite the guests.

There I am,

Kissing your cheek, though the swords are drawn and I know it.

Still though, I exchange all your promises for a bag of gold, treasure in this day.

I like the excesses Jesus. Seems there is a lot I will do to satisfy this flesh.

There I am,

Among the religious elite.

Staking claims, calling out the weak, neglecting mercy.

Tell me then who struck you down Christ? Who spit in Your face?

There I am,

Listening to the rooster squawking in the distance.

It sings a song I recognize, for all my words, still I can turn my back on You.

I’m all yours when the road is smooth, just don’t ask me to suffer, to join in your sacrifice.

There I am,

My damp hair on Your feet.

This unfaithful heart, so prone to wander,

To forget and neglect all Your most reckless blessings.

There I am,

The doubter demanding proof.

Give me the three-month recidivism rates on your miracles,

Watch me jab my filthy fingers into the gaping holes in Your hands.

There I am,

Standing with the mockers,

Those who claim the empire and protect her against all odds.

I let their voice ring loudest, above your pained cry, I wash my hands of it.

There YOU are.

The garden is growing up around You,

The cup heavy in Your hand, You drink it to the last drop.

You watch me the whole time. I have to look away.

Despite my magnificent failures.

Despite my betrayals and weakness.

Despite all of the ways I try to claim both kingdom come and empire now.

Still.

There

You

Are.

Linking with friends this Holy Week.

Emily, Ann, Jen, Laura & Jennifer

Moments

Posted on March 20, 2013 by melissafed

The lights are low and I sling my four-year old around my hip like an infant. It might be the last time you know, that she nestles that softest cheek into mine, that I can rock her to the drum beat. She closes her eyes when I do, peeks about when she gets bored.

They watch the sun turn pink on the horizon. My four-year old calls me, she knows when the sun is slipping, when we lose it completely. We all come. There is a space between heaven and earth just there on the horizon. It is the shape of an eye. We see God in it.

I pop my head back, all I see are pine trees high, star streaked sky.

I breathe deep. Could it be that it is the first time I breathed all day? Of course not. You couldn’t live like that and yet….

I smell the gasoline, feel the speed, the tress whip past, I trust you more than I trust myself, and I hold on.

We set a fire, the dog attacks the flame, the flying spark. We sit.

We tuck the kids in. I think about what parts of this will feel like home for them. The stellar jays? The woodpecker? The way camp fires smell a day later?

They are fighting again.

It is snowing today. You heard me. Spring break, the man is away and it is snowing… again. The kids have gone rabid and are about one more house day away from someone loosing a hand. And yet, there is beauty here too, when I ignore them long enough, once in a while they compromise, practice empathy, create fantastic adventures. It sounds like Love is growing in their hearts. I see the silhouettes of heroes peeking over their horizons, even when they act more like villans.

The kitchen tap drips into the unwashed pot. I scrub the toilets. Match the socks. Revel in these ordinaries.

The man is on a service trip with 137 young people this week. My niece is among them, she is gentle and quiet and so sensitive. I am so proud of her bravery, stepping beyond her usual fences, trying new things. When I see her, love glints in her eyes. Courage is rising. I see it, I get it. We are the same in some ways, I want to shout “There are worse things than failing, trust me, and you are making progress in all the right directions. Keep stepping out…that is where LIFE is. Perfectionism is a vice that keeps you from it”.

I have been writing. A lot. Not here but elsewhere and I feel flesh on dry bones. I am making sense of senseless things. It might never do anything but fill up a journal with understanding. That is enough.

I have a new nephew, born yesterday. Pearl Jam ‘Free’ played on the radio the moment scalpel finished, child emerged. There are some things you just cannot plan.

There is no new thing we are living my friends. Just the old with a new bow on it. Just us, swiftly spinning, holding onto life, to faith, hearing birds sing like it is for the first time. Just life, all its mundane and profound wound tightly into one package, longing to be lived to the FULL.

Tell me then, what ordinary moment turned Holy on you today?

Linking with Emily and friends…

The Everyday Extra-Ordinaries

Posted on February 26, 2013 by melissafed

It is funny when the sun starts to shine on my funk.

Lent always comes at a good time of year for me, a time when it is EASY to recognize the ways I am broken and to look them square in the face. The Februaries will do that to me. Make me terribly introspective, a little bit oppressed. But lent always leaves me hopeful too. I see the resurrection rising, the way the broken in me meets the fullness of Easter, it is the only true way to WHOLE.

Today all I saw were the signs of hope on the horizon.

It started with my girl. We had a tea party and lemon cookies for breakfast. Sometimes you have to do that. We used the good china, she taught me that they are not cookies when ‘tea party-ing’…they are biscuits then. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

Next I had some extra quiet time, E is colouring like a mad woman these days. All day, every day. My Lenten devotional is GOLD so it worked out well for both of us.

We had a short walk in the woods. The wind whispered what sounded like a song. The icicles were dripping, promising me a far off spring.

We picked up the boy from school and he picked up his trophy again. Note to all parents: A trophy instead of a goody bag at a party? THE BEST IDEA EVER. He tells everyone he got it ‘from hockey’. He refused to make a wish the other day on account of the fact that he didn’t need to wish, because “I already have this (the trophy)”. The kid hasn’t put it down yet.

So often the secret to hope is just about lifting up our eyes. Taking your eyes off yourself, your broken ways, the way you missed the mark today. The secret of hope is to focus on the fullness coming, the way you are getting closer each day.

Today, was the sort of day I want to capture and keep somewhere. Somewhere I can open it again when the fog rolls back in, when I look down too long and stumble over my own feet. For when, the miracles of each moment, sink into the dominion of the ordinary.