17 Pairs of Shoes

Zaca-left, Edmund-top right, Emerson-bottom right

El Salvador, Boy's Home, 2007.

Do you ever just want God to tell you what to do with your life? So often we pray and sit around asking God for the manual on how to live as Christians. As if we want him to spell everything out for us from whom, where, when, what, how. An exact blue-print of sorts. 

He has. 

Its called the Holy Bible. 

But it is a radical call. 

A call that insults my self-preserving, comfortable, controlled existence. A call that is far from grey. A call that exploits the true intentions of choice as selfish. 

You see I have this really intimate love hate relationship with choice. 

I like that I can choose from 5 grocery stores in a 10 mile radius from my home. I like that I can choose which brand of jeans I wear. I like that I can go to Target and walk out with tools, furniture, paper, shampoo, and bananas. This is choice. I have never lived in a culture where I did not have choices. 

All I have known is plenty. 

But plenty often leaves me empty. 

And empty keeps me coming back for more. And as I keep myself distracted by this imposter of freedom called choice it makes me believe I can treat Christianity the same way. Don't get me wrong I serve an extravagant God whose heart is generous and loving. 

I mean, He released us for the sake of choice. For the sake of love.  

But I think somewhere between the average American woman owning 17 pairs of shoes and spending 399 hours a year shopping, we have replaced the Radical Call with Choice.  

Whenever I need to be reminded of what to do with my life. I turn to Jesus' words to his disciples about The Final Judgement. 

Its pretty simple. This thing called Christianity. 

I guess its just a choice. 

There's plenty of people in the world who don't live in a culture of choice. 

I am reminded of the orphans (above) in El Salvador. They are beautiful, huh? 

I think it requires a couple things.  

Open Arms.

A lot of Love. 

 Time. 

Matthew 25:31-40.

"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying ‘Lord ,when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’"

Otium Sanctum

Guerneville, Healdsburg, Jenner-Sonoma County. 

Jenner, San Francisco, Alexander Valley. 

My backyard, San Francisco, Balboa Park.  

During this season of waiting I have been afforded the gift of time. As I have been confronted with such lavish freedom between completing nursing school and finding work, many realities have convicted my spirit about the culture I live in and its influences on spirituality. 

1st, We live in the 21st century where being busy is the norm. Richard Foster describes busyness as one of Satan's greatest schemes in distracting us from God, ourselves, and the things that really matter. 

2nd, In the Western World and sadly within the Evangelical Church we do not value being a people of spiritual discipline. Some how a Sunday church service and signing up as a greeter or teaching Sunday school has replaced practicing spiritual disciplines. I am speaking of Mediation. Prayer. Fasting. We can look in the gospels and SEE the life of Jesus built upon these spiritual disciplines. The theme of him retreating, seeking solitude, waiting on the Father is central to his ministry on earth. And early in the morning, while it was still dark, He arose and went out and departed to a lonely place, and was praying there-Mark 1:35. 

3rd, Social Media has replaced living intentionally. Being in the moment with others, with the environment, with ourselves, and with God. I fall short of this often. Which is why the Holy Spirit has convicted me and why I began reading Richard Fosters, Celebration of Discipline.  Satan has flooded our 21st century culture-invading the minds, hearts, eyes, and bodies of Gods people-by creating an appetite for constant stimulation, noise, and busyness. Its no wonder why pornography is destroying marriages, relationships, and chivalry. Matthew 6:22 Jesus says, The eye is the lamp of the body. If the eye is healthy then the body is full of light. We have traded the ancient arts of spiritual discipline (which Foster says positions us towards God) with the superficial and empty existence Satan offers through the world.  So I ask, How am I being set a part? 

4th, Otium Sanctum also known as "Holy Leisure". Foster proposes is the way of changing the culture. "It refers to a sense of balance in life, an ability to be at peace through the activities of the day, an ability to rest and take time to enjoy beauty, an ability to pace ourselves." I often like to capture the world around me through a lens. It helps me see beauty. Stop. Breathe. I have also been contemplating the disciplines of the Eastern world, particularly meditation. Transcendental Meditation aims to empty and detach self entirely from the world. Foster describes meditation, as an emptying of self and an attaching to God, Spirit, and Son. I have been practicing meditation by setting a timer for 5 and 10 minute increments (for now). Foster describes several types of meditation:

1. "Palms Down" and "Palms Up": When your palms are down you empty yourself. "Lord, I give you my fear about being a new nurse, not knowing anything, feeling stupid." When your palms are up you receive: "Lord fill me with peace and confidence as a new nurse." 

2. "Exhale" and "Inhale": This essentially is the same as the above form. In the exhale you release to God and in the inhale you receive to fill what is lacking/replace what is not of Gods kingdom.   

3. Meditatio Scripturarum: Choose a scripture and ask the spirit to have it become living in you, through exegesis, internalizing and personalizing the passage, and experiencing it with your senses (as if you were there).

4. Choose something in creation: tree, ocean, water, leaf and carefully ponder it. God uses His creation to show us something of His glory and can speaks to us through that form of creation. 

5. You and Him: Picture God and you, together. Picture the Spirit dwelling in you. Picture you and Jesus, eye to eye. Where are you? What is he saying to you? How does He feel about you?   

Romans 12:2 says, Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. I believe meditation can be an avenue in which we posture our heart, mind, and body towards God. And then HE can work in us. Foster says, "The path of "spiritual disciplines" does not produce the change; it only puts us in the place where the change can occur." I like this because it takes the legalism and righteousness out of the discipline. Therefore it is not the act of meditation or prayer or fasting that makes us holy, pure, righteous but it is the act/working of the Spirit of God in us.  

Joanie Elizabeth Paine's Memorial

O death, where is your sting? 

O death, where is your victory? 

Thanks be to God who gives us the victory 

through our Lord Jesus Christ-1 Cor 15:55

Our little oak of righteousness 

We will always remember

Hands wide open

Maple Tree
The Lord is my rock and my fortress Ps 18:2

Ascending upon the mountain ridge we never imagined this day would come. The day we would hold our babies ashes. Tears falling. Streaming down a sun beamed face. The city of Los Angeles stretching for miles as the aftermath of the storm opened the skies. The pain of losing Joanie opening the fresh wound in my heart. We didn’t know how to do this. There was no manual. No bible story to follow. Just two young broken hearts retracing are steps 3 months earlier.

A backpack. A maple tree. An oak tree. A shovel and water. The slamming of doors and the laughter of strangers as they discovered the trailhead. Juxtaposed with the sacredness of a bronzed leaf urn hidden away in my sweatshirt. Fighting back the tears. Hands pressing against the treasure inside. Descending into the valley, rays of sunshine leading the way. Reflections of oak trees upon the overflowing creek. Sun kissed rocks. Last of falls maple leaves. The glory of creation beaming with praise. I knew this day she was beaming down upon us.

Shuffling up the muddy mountainside a patch scattered with fallen oak leaves. The heavy-laden soil saturated from the storm.  The ground quickly peeled back a perfect place to plant the oak tree. Scattering ashes at its roots, she would always be our little oak of righteousness. Speaking forth all her beauty and goodness. Declaring the name of Joanie Elizabeth Paine upon the mountainside. Hands held high giving praise to our God. All was still. All was silent. But the storm in our hearts.

Descending farther into the valley. Crossing creeks and stepping-stones. The maple tree would need to be near water and direct sunlight. Perched upon a rock, a tree awaiting its adornment. Vibrant red maples like the one I found the day after I held Joanie.  We would wait with anticipation to come back, to behold its beauty. Just as we wait to behold her beauty, adorned in the light of the Father. 

Making an oath unto God. We would live with hands wide open and would dedicate every one of our children unto Him. Emptying the urn, her ashes falling into the soil. She would become far more than anything we as mortal humans could attain here on earth. Michael prayed she would become all she was made for, bearing much fruit like the tree of life-

Revelation 22:1 Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city, also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.  

The Memorial 

Later that same day we joined together with dear loved ones. Gathering in a friend’s backyard we braved the chill of the late afternoon wind. Heavy hearts entangled with sorrow and joy. Michael said he wanted this days purpose to hold two things. To honor Joanie and to praise God. We did both whole-heartedly. I could not have asked God for a more precious memorial

Trembling from the inside out I stood up to share the letter I had written for Joanie. I didn’t know if I could get through it but Michael came and wrapped his arms around me. Giving me courage to press through the tears. He also shared something he had written and it goes like so... 

Twirling, like a wound rope unwinding, yet unpredictable, going left, then right, forward then backwards. Hopelessly trying to stop the flight in the cage of my hands. I was a boy of ten years then waiting for the dinner bell to ring as I keenly kept my eyes locked on the slender silhouettes of Eucalyptus leaves against the canvas of the darkening dusky sky. To catch one was a joy, a challenge conquered, a skill mastered, a competition won. It was a game a naive country boy would play.

Driving home on the eve of December down Tigertail Drive laden with hues of yellow, orange, and red from the Sycamores, Maples, and Amber tees that line the street. It hit me. The metaphor of a fallen leaf. You had just fallen Joanie. We were returning form the Doctors office that early evening where we had seen your heart beat so definately beat no more. This idea, this metaphor of a leaf kept reappearing, from teh day we gathered leaves in Chantry Flats to the symbol placed on your hospital room door. I guess its the brief nature and radiant color of a fallen leaf that stirs us, that enlightens our soul. Much like a falling star slicing through the darkness. Glorious and miraculous on one hand, yet cut short, leaving us wanting.

Wanting to see the sparkle of your mothers eyes in you. Wanting to have you fall asleep on my chest. Wanting to kiss you goodnight every precious evening I would have with you. But your Heavenly Father wanted you to miss the winter chill of sins effects and bring you into His eternal summer.

Little did I know as a boy catching Eucalyptus leaves that I would catch the most precious leaf of all. Falling from your mother's womb into my hands you were the grace of God. You were and are Joanie. HOlding you, ripped open the dam of dreams and desires that had been swelling for you. They spilled out as tears over you, just as our Father's tears showered upon us. His promises secured by his blood and tears watered our broken hearts; never leaving nor forsaking us, being the God of all comfort having walked through all that we encounter, that death has no victory. And giving us hope, for we know Joanie, that as your body lay as a fallen leaf in our arms, the leaves of the tree of life that are for the healing of the nations, would restore you as well. 

She was the size of a mango...

This was the day my life completely flipped upside down. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was October 16th just shy of a week since becoming a Registered Nurse. Of course the idea of taking pictures of a growing belly while holding the appropriate fruit per gestational age came to me at about 20 weeks.  Poor Michael patiently snapping 10, 15, photographs to get it perfect! As  for many women who experience their first pregnancy this excitement involves brainstorming all the creative ways to mark each month of change. This day marked much more than a photograph of me carrying a mango, the size of Joanie at the time. It marked the day we would find out Joanie would also die in my womb. The doctors said most likely before the third trimester. Many of you reading this know the story. She had Turners Syndrome. 45 Chromosomes, one less than most of the people you see walking around everyday. You see God had a completely different plan and purpose for Joanie's life. And ours. Little did we know it would carry us down a very painful, heartbreaking, and transforming road. This is where hands wide open comes in. Learning to live with hands wide open to whatever enters our lives. Ann Voskamp in One Thousand Gifts says, "Thanksgiving is the evidence of our acceptance to whatever he gives." I have been learning this through the carrying, death, and mourning of our daughter Joanie Elizabeth.

After this day I stopped marking the days. All joy in the journey of pregnancy was robbed from me. The anticipation of chronologically marking her growth got lost in the deep sorrow of my heart. Many did not see me showing or pregnant at all. I did manage to muster up the strength to take a 6 month shot. Only a week before Joanie had died. Looking at this picture of us seems so surreal. I can't help but cry. And miss her. Holding onto these memories are hard but it also overwhelms me with joy to think of the day we will be together again.

She will forever be beating in the middle of our lives. 

A New Life

So although this blog has become sporadic and inconsistent writing may be more of an outlet for me to process this transition into being a nurse and rather less of taking snapshots of our life. To be honest life has changed so much the rememberance of what was has vanished in the midst of what is. I am not sure where to start. The moments I have rest in my mind away from the pathophysiology, etiologies, and nursing interventions, I almost forget how to think normally. One of my professors said by the end of this year you will look in the mirror and not recognize who you are because of how far you have come in your knowledge and skills as a nurse. Even know 5 weeks into it I have moments when I lose myself completely as though I am no longer the Jennifer I knew for 25 years, those out of body, surreal, unexplainable moments that I am sure you have experienced. Maybe when you are looking at your own children playing or growing up you think am I really their parent, are they really my child? Those moments when you realize you are not in control and the only thing holding you up is the love of the Father. My father gave me freedom to choose this path of nursing, yet, he wrote this divine and special plan for my life. There are two times in my life I can say with confidence God directly spoke to me. The first time was when Michael and I were going through a really difficult time in our marriage and God sang Isaiah 54:4-8 over me. The second time was on the beach in Pismo in May. I just found out I did not get accepted to the nursing school I am attending now -they had had made a mistake with some of my paper work-and I cried out to God from the depths of my heart like David did saying, search me Oh God, see the desires of my heart You have placed in me, remember your faithfulness in bringing me to this point. And He said, "I will fulfill my plans in and through you." Two months later I found out I got in to Mount St. Mary's College. And now I am at the bedside of people who were on the verge of dying and may die if their body doesn't respond to the surgery or transplant they underwent. I am faced with two realities. One, our incredible God has masterfully woven our bodies together to prevent and fight off disease, to adapt to changes, and to regenerate and repair from damage in such a way I don't know how one could deny such an incredible and divine designer! And secondly because of sin and the brokenness of this world we are faced with the inevitable reality of death. For those of us who are saved we can shout, "Oh death where is your string" yet for those who are perishing there may be no echo of victory but of despair. Therefore we become ambassadors of this good news. David Platt says, it is the shocking reality of the cross, yet while we were still sinners He saved us and took on our punishment, calling us sons and daughters and inviting us into the imperishable treasure of our inheritance. My plea is this shocking reality would not grow dim in our hearts as believers but it would become our daily manna! When we let God be God in our lives, incredible things can happen, but it takes a heart of surrender. Bruchko who was a missionary in Venezuela put it this way, we must let God be the hammock of our lives. We hang our entire lives in that hammock trusting He is the anchor holding us up.

Summer

Michael's First Official Day as a Nursing Student

Tuscali Mountain Inn

3rd anniversary in Topanga Canyon

(Copy and Paste the link below to view our Backpacking Trip in Mineral King)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/66529555@N03/

As you can tell we have been missing in action. We have been in constant transition since, well, our entire marriage! Although moving may be one of my top 10 least favorite activities to do, it deepens the reality of this shifting and shakable earthly 'home' we have and how as Jesus says, He has gone to prepare a new home for us in heaven. With the continual changes in our life over the years it has forced me to be more heavenly minded through the letting go of stuff, people, and places. Recalling Paul's words, If then you have been raised with christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things that are above and not things that are on the earth. Thus with all of this said we are in a new season. This past Monday we officially moved down to the Los Angeles area to embrace the call of being a nurse. The Lord miraculously worked all of the details out as we too sowed seeds towards this dream over the past two years to get into nursing school. Michael started his first day at Cerritos College for an Associates Degree in Nursing. And myself, will start Monday at Mount St. Mary's College Accelerated Bachelors of Science in Nursing. Michael's program is 2 years and mine is 1. I think for both of us this big transition feels very surreal. Yes, we miss our community, dear friends, and living on the Central Coast but the Lord has been faithful in preparing our hearts for this goodbye as well as given us a greater hope in the call and plans he has for our lives! I have learned in order for one to persevere forward and walk in obedience, not as Lots wife who looked back at her city and turned into a pillar of salt, we must hold onto the promises of God. What our His promises for you today?

As far as recapping the past four months some of the blessings we experienced were: Backpacking in Yosemite with Paul and Elizabeth (Paul and Michael went to college together) in May, Colorado Reunion with my college roommates and their spouses in June, Bass Lake with my childhood friends and family in July, our most recent backpacking trip to Mineral King in August, and celebrating our 3rd anniversary in Malibu.