Church and Communism

Sometimes I think that the church (the way we practice it–a pastor-less community under the headship of Christ) is ideologically much like communism.  On paper it looks good, but once you put it into practice, craziness is bound to ensue.

I don’t mean to sound negative about the way we’ve chosen to live–in the church, as the church–except that I do.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers and sisters in Christ, and I love that we are trying to walk this road together.  I only wonder if we’ll work out, if we are “working it out,” with much the same detachment I might look on a some sociological experiment.

Well, I say that I am detached, but that’s not true.  I am very a-ttached.  Just doing some wondering is all…

glad to be friends

I just ran across this verse today:

No longer do I call you servants, for a servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I heard from my father I have made known to you (John 15:15).

And it made my heart skip a beat.  Jesus calls us friends.  And not only that, everything he’s heard from his father he’s made known to us.  Just think about that for a second.  That’s freaking amazing.  There are no secrets meant for just Jesus and his father.  He’s let us in on their relationship.  He’s revealed mysteries, depths, heights, shadows…Lord, give us eyes to see.

I just have to love a guy like that.  He’s so…so…freaking amazing!  I don’t have to be a servant.  I get to be a friend.  Which is ironic, because what do friends do?  Serve each other in love.  I guess the difference is we’re on equal standing, and he has no need to command me to do anything, since what I do, I will do out of love.

Equality.  The word has been worth fighting for, for some in my greater family of African-American brothers and sisters, worth dying for.  I am honored and humbled that I have a Lord, nay, a friend who could be a master, but chooses otherwise.

I sometimes wonder how it’s possible he can be as wonderful as he is.

Finally, relaxation

Yesterday was Mike and I’s 2nd anniversary.  While talking about this fact with him, I happened to say (quite innocently I might add!), “Goodness it feels like a lot longer than that!”  I only meant that it felt as if I’d been connected with him and sharing life for much longer than a mere 2 years.  Ha!  I laugh in the face of the “cotton” anniversary.  We’re already gold, baby.  Already gold.

On my wedding day, I didn’t know what it would mean to love him more now than I did then, but it’s true.  If loving more means having a greater appreciation for, a greater depth of cherish-ment (yes, I just made that word up), and a better understanding of, then it’s definitely true.  I love him more now than then.  I can’t say that arriving here, in this place of greater love, was an easy road.  In fact, it was probably mostly a hard road.  But isn’t it worth the sore and calloused feet?  How else would you be able to deeply appreciate something like…

An evening of relaxation, complete with a couple’s massage at this day spa, followed by a cozy candlelit dinner in our bathrobes and slippers, and dessert.  I can’t tell you how needed and wonderful it was to slow down and take a breath, together.  We’ve been so busy with different things–Jubilee, work, school, church life–we’ve had little time to really relax, and do it together.

So if anything, this is a call to slow down, a call for appreciation.  A call for cherish-ment.

And on that note, here are a few things I am grateful for and cherish about my husband:

He is a good Daddy.  Jubilee lights up when she sees him

He fills my water glass in the middle of the night when I’m up with our daughter

He makes me laugh and roll my eyes every day

He makes sure I take care of myself

He practices a generous orthodoxy (hahaha)

Love you dear!

2007 reflections

In 2007…

I mourned the loss of innocence in the world and in myself.
But I rejoiced when it was born anew in so many ways.

I fell in love.

Community took on even more significance.
My sisters and brothers in Raleigh grew more precious.

I faced some fears.

Mortality reminded me of its grip on me and the lives of my loved ones.
The great cloud of witnesses surrounded, and witnessed (which freaked me out).

I gave birth.

I cried more than I wanted to.
But nothing made me happier than the laughter of my child.

I missed family.

I gained new friends in unexpected places.
And even met up with some old ones.

Sleep became elusive.

Read a few good books, saw some good movies.
But mostly, any down time was spent wanting to sleep.

I learned to appreciate my humanity even more.

And my spiritual life grew out of the mundane.
Out of the ordinary, every-day occurrences of life on this earth.

Changed many, many diapers.

I cooked, and it became a creative process and an outlet.
My body was made food for someone.

I thought a lot about hunger.

And Jesus kept me.
In the light, dark, and the murky in-between,
he kept me.

Goodbye old year, I am glad for the things you taught me.