The Unforced Rhythms of Grace

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me-watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
Matthew 11: 28-30 The Message Bible


Photo by Josh England

The phrase, 'The unforced rhythms of grace' has really caught hold in my mind. I mean, at first I had to ask myself what this poetic stretch of words actually meant.

Unforced rhythms of grace?

I've put the pieces together like this: Christ wants me to have a relaxed, unhurried gait to describe my life with him.
Religion taken on as the way to please God is a cadence that keeps me focus on a exacting pattern, of steps that need to stay in line and measured. It's trying to be a person others say I am supposed to be in order to receive acceptance from God.

My definition of grace: Loving, caring, respecting others beyond what is humanly possible on my own. Experiencing how Christ can work through me. Seeing that plain ol' me with all my kinks and flaws is worthy of being used by Christ.

This is what my mission in life is. This is who I want to be every day. I need to ask for God's grace to be shown to others every day.

I'm not saying this to get a pat on the back, just to let you know how much this means to me- to see others being loved, influenced, encouraged because of how Jesus works through me is just INCREDIBLE.

A wonderful discovery

A Wonderful Discovery: a new artist to admire
The Old Testament meets Beijing Opera
He Qi, believes Christian art should be bright. "I read the first chapter of Genesis, the creation, and God says, 'Let there be light.' So God's creation is a very, very colorful world." This idea goes against the centuries-old tradition in Chinese academic art — minimalist still lifes and landscapes usually done in black ink on white paper.
He Qi (pronounced huh-chee) says that there is a precedent for colorful Chinese art, even though it has been given very little wall-space in Western museums. "Chinese folk art, for Chinese minority people, their folk art is very, very colorful." In five years in the Chinese countryside and another four in rural Tibet, He Qi says he learned about folk painting and paper cutting.
He Qi incorporates Chinese and world art history into other Chinese symbolism. Moses is one of the Bible characters who, in He Qi's paintings, has the face of a dragon over his belly. "A dragon is a symbol for power, for the emperor. Chinese emperor clothes always were full of dragons," He Qi says. In his code, the dragon in the belly indicates the power and unction of the Holy Spirit.
Song of Solomon 5:2-8 A tanned village girl is the Beloved, telling the story of how she ran through the streets looking for her lover. He Qi cleverly combines sections of the Book that compare her features to architectural features, and the image of her pressing her ear to the wall, listening for him.








Exodus, based on Exodus 7—1y the evidence of his hard-heartedness (the river of blood that sweeps down and left, the dead and stinking fish, the frogs), two-faced Pharaoh looks sorry enough. But Aaron, in front of Moses, has his cane ready to call down the plague of gnats. A mysterious red eye looks heavenward.
Joshua Blowing Trumpet, based on Joshua 6 The collapsing wall of Jericho is painted over the Hebrews blowing their trumpets. Joshua, in the headdress of a high official, has the dragon in the belly.

Jonah and the Whale, based on Jonah 1—2
Sailors roll Jonah overboard into the path of a giant carp. The sea, an upright Buddha-like figure whose hand is the sun, is the presence of God that Jonah tried so hard to run from. The intense blue of the piece and its stained-glass black lines point to Chagall's influence on He Qi's art.


You find the original article that I took my content at :
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2008/aprilweb-only/117-51.0.html

Emily channels Britney

I told Em I was going to post this. Some of you may have seen it before on Em's blog last July, but it's worth posting on my blog, just because it's going to be one of those videos to show her kids someday.

At least I got asked to the Prom

The other day my daughter, Lydia, and I were having a conversation about something that led her to ask the question about my going to proms in high school.

Well, I never went to a prom or a dance. I never had a date in high school. I was the quiet girl that had would only sit at the front of the classroom by seat assignment. Err...seat assignments.
But it brought up a memory I have of being asked to the Junior/Senior prom in 1974. It was Bruce Dalen who asked me.

We met in Typing class. We had the newest in typewriter technology.... a sweet, Corona electric typewriter. Imagine the hum of 25 of those all clacking away at the same time.

Bruce sat right behind me. I don't remember how we even got started talking. I just remember he has a great sense of humor. Sometimes, we would throw a few witty words back and forth at each other during class, which was easy because it didn't seem like the teacher cared, and the din made it so know one could really hear us anyway.

Thinking back I can see the top of his mop of blond hair and his big shiny wire frame glasses looking over the typewriter roll bar. He could not have been more than about 4"8'.
The word on the street (school hall way) was that he was short because of a glandular problem and he was getting shots to grow taller. I never asked him about this because I thought it would be rude. It didn't really matter to me why he was short, I thought he was a nice person.

During Spring Quarter talk began about Prom. I had made plans to go to Klamath Falls for a youth retreat. I was relieved to have plans for that weekend. I assumed there would be no chance of anyone asking me to the prom that same weekend. I wanted to have something I could tell my friends I was doing in place of it. After all, even though I knew I would be petrified to actually have a prom date I didn't want to look like a loser with no plans at all.

One day while a friend (who will remain nameless-you'll learn why soon enough) and I were doing our daily lunch ritual of walking around the halls avoiding eye contact with other kids walking around the hallways. It was an easy way to check other people out...who's a couple, how they acted and what everyone was wearing...but then act like I didn't care one iota.

Just before our right curve at the Biology Lab Bruce and his twice as tall friend (seemed that way) came scooting up. My 'friend' stands right behind me leaning against the lockers. A couple seconds go by and we've all made semi-good eye contact.

"Hey, Julie, I was wondering if you'd like to go to prom with me?" I was shocked...and flattered...and panicked all at the same time. My eyes veered to the floor, and then I hear something like a locker door slamming behind me. All three of us look up to see my 'friend'
hitting the locker with her fist, her head leaning against it laughing hysterically.

Grrr...

I think my answer fell on slightly deaf ears. He heard 'No', even though I gave him an explanation. Thinking back, I am not sure what my facial expression looked like with my embarrassment growing because of the scene behind me. I always felt they may have misinterpreted what my face was showing was embarrassment towards them.
My ridiculous hall-partner was growing red in the face from laughter.

I wanted to strangle her.

I have thought through this scenario many times since I was 16. Mostly, when telling others stories about my high school years. I know I had wanted to run down the hall and apologize to Bruce. I know I had wanted to never speak to that 'friend' again.
I remember standing in the middle of the hallway watching him and his tall friend turn the corner knowing he was hurt and angry.
As boldly as I could I told my 'friend' off. Which isn't saying much, because it was about a tenth of what I'm able to do now.

To say the least, having someone hurt and mad because of me, was terrible. Whether I imagined it or not, it seemed like he went out the way to avoid me; I caught his tall friend scowling at me a couple of times. It seems like he didn't even show up at typing class the rest of that quarter.

The whole incident became an invisible little sliver I could not pull out. I prayed for something to happen so he'd know I was still his friend. If I could just catch his eye during band practice and give him a little reassuring smile. But he wouldn't look at me.

The following year, I was a junior and he was a senior. One day it happened. We both came out of different doors into a skinny hallway by the band room. He was smiling thinking about something and with my best effort gave him full eye contact with a big smile. He smiled back and said something funny. We chuckled.

The curse was lifted. We were friends again.

Good Stuff

February has been a great month for me. I have had a lot of situations come my way that I have been encouraged by.
I've come from writing sort of a dark poem in my last post to finding new bright spots in stabilizing myself physically. (That's what my fibromyalgia doctor calls it...'we need to get you stabilized and comfortable')

1. I am losing weight...frustrating, irritating, pants pinching overflow. I dropped one pant size so far. I think dropping two of the medications that can cause weight gain has helped. BUT also I am able to move more, sometimes work out and I have the clear head and energy to add the right foods into my diet.

2. I got two design gigs this month! I needed that extra income to upgrade my Photoshop and Illustrator. It's fun to actually use the tools I learned in school to work with a client. I am very thankful that I have the freedom to work freelance. When I get depleted physically, it's like the lights are on but nobody is home.

3. I have gained fresh peace as I have learned more about who Jesus really is. I describe it as 'fresh peace' because I didn't have any peace about where I was at in my situation. I didn't like the limits I had to put on myself physically because of a combination of pain, exhaustion and mental fatigue. It was frustrating to be so exhausted that I could form words correctly. I felt like a bump on a log, just sort of watching the world go 'round. Peace isn't a new virtue for me. But I lost it for awhile and now have regained it. What is really important is it has returned with more substance. Hmmm....I think-more beauty. It's more important to hold on to, because not having it left a pain in my heart.
I bring Jesus into the mix because I decided to follow his teachings along time ago.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. "John 14:27 NIV

4. I chose to free myself from some mental crud. Without getting into details, I was holding on to what I call a 'bone of contention' with a couple of people...well, and God. Basically, not being able to come to an agreement about stuff that effected me and not being aware that deep inside I was sort of ticked off about it all the time. I finally said a significant prayer, "Enough is enough! I give up!" Because nothing I was holding a grudge about was worth the fallout. Grudges choke the life out of love.

5. I'm feeling closer to my kids - Emily, Lydia and Josh, more than ever before. We've always been pretty open to discussion. Love has been present. But, I think I'm more adjusted to all of them being capable, thriving adults-with their own minds to make their own decisions. Talking with them has to be one of my favorite past times.

Bed of Truth

A BED OF TRUTH

My personal Psalm

Gloom and doom and lonliness swelled up in me

Exhaustion took over,
making my mind slip into a
crippled state;

not remembering what was true

and good in my life.

I called out for God's rescue-

to give me strength to stand on what I knew.

relying not on what I felt

in my weakness.
My Father God gave me a picture
of a bed of truth,

to rest my body and my mind...
and my soul

in what is real.

Rest in knowing what is real.

Rest assured.