Sigur Rós - Ekki múkk from Sigur Rós on Vimeo.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
vision
You stand there on the top of your hill, all the questions and journey of your decision-making behind you, and you declare with fists in the air and all your might, the wind in your hair and a vision of your next life's accomplishment looming with Matterhorn-like grandeur before you...
We. Are. Adopting!
Your words echo back to you with exhilarating confidence and then fade away into the distance...
adopting... adopting... adopting...
And you're confident that after reading all the stories, and after witnessing all the little miracles that got you to this place, all the challenges ahead of you in this journey are going to play out like this:
And some of them do.
Some however play out like this:
...aaaaand hello Fire Swamp.
Does your grand vision still exist, is it there? Yes. It's obscured by trees, the dark of the valley, the ducking and dodging of spitting fire, over-sized rodents and quick sand, and the tending of your own wounds... but it's still there.
If you have a propensity towards self-reflection, it is tempting to become ungracious with yourself. "Why can't I be standing back on my little hill? Why can't I see my vision of mountains and glory? What have I done wrong on this journey to be so disconnected from my destination?" And fear sets in...
But you learn. There is more beyond the limit of your tree-filled vision. It is dark here, but light beyond.
And as Wesley says, "No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too. "
As for the ROUSes... I'll address them in another post.
Someone who has read the story before (or watched the movie) can tell you that either way, a glorious leap of faith or a tumble into the valley, doesn't determine the end of the story. But it can make you stronger, and more faithful and make the ending that. much. sweeter.
We. Are. Adopting!
Your words echo back to you with exhilarating confidence and then fade away into the distance...
adopting... adopting... adopting...
And you're confident that after reading all the stories, and after witnessing all the little miracles that got you to this place, all the challenges ahead of you in this journey are going to play out like this:
And some of them do.
Some however play out like this:
...aaaaand hello Fire Swamp.
Does your grand vision still exist, is it there? Yes. It's obscured by trees, the dark of the valley, the ducking and dodging of spitting fire, over-sized rodents and quick sand, and the tending of your own wounds... but it's still there.
If you have a propensity towards self-reflection, it is tempting to become ungracious with yourself. "Why can't I be standing back on my little hill? Why can't I see my vision of mountains and glory? What have I done wrong on this journey to be so disconnected from my destination?" And fear sets in...
But you learn. There is more beyond the limit of your tree-filled vision. It is dark here, but light beyond.
And as Wesley says, "No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too. "
As for the ROUSes... I'll address them in another post.
Someone who has read the story before (or watched the movie) can tell you that either way, a glorious leap of faith or a tumble into the valley, doesn't determine the end of the story. But it can make you stronger, and more faithful and make the ending that. much. sweeter.
Monday, March 05, 2012
love & obedience
We are doing something crazy:
There is this child.
We are strangers to them.
This child has no family.
This child has issues - some of them you can see, some of them you can't. Some of them don't even exist yet.
And we are going to say to this stranger-child, "Hey! There is a lot - an awful lot - that stands between us and you, but we are willing to cross all those bridges. We'll span the oceans. We are willing to let your issues be our issues. Your mess, our mess. Your story, our story. We are willing to be your family and love you always."
Wait, you say. That's not crazy. That is exciting, noble, wonderful!
Perhaps.
There is a cost you see... the hidden, secret cost.
Because to take a complete stranger with all their mysterious messiness, and call them family... to open your arms to a child whose unknowns will shake you to your core, whose potential for disaster may outweigh your potential to love, and be willing to chose to love even still...
That means you have to stop looking at what you want.
Stop looking at what you need.
Take all those things that you are so desperate to call you own - your dreams, your fears, your hopes, every deceitful, pacifying half truth you tell yourself, your reputation and your friendships - every good and bad that defines you...
...and give them up.
Then you must choose to be obedient to a vision of love that is outlandish.
wild
misunderstood
presumptive
bold
undeserved
stubborn
hopeful
And you must choose it in your darkest hours, in the blindness of your selfishness, in the midnight of your despair. Again and again, over and over and with every breath...
You must choose love, and obedience.
There is this child.
We are strangers to them.
This child has no family.
This child has issues - some of them you can see, some of them you can't. Some of them don't even exist yet.
And we are going to say to this stranger-child, "Hey! There is a lot - an awful lot - that stands between us and you, but we are willing to cross all those bridges. We'll span the oceans. We are willing to let your issues be our issues. Your mess, our mess. Your story, our story. We are willing to be your family and love you always."
Wait, you say. That's not crazy. That is exciting, noble, wonderful!
Perhaps.
There is a cost you see... the hidden, secret cost.
Because to take a complete stranger with all their mysterious messiness, and call them family... to open your arms to a child whose unknowns will shake you to your core, whose potential for disaster may outweigh your potential to love, and be willing to chose to love even still...
That means you have to stop looking at what you want.
Stop looking at what you need.
Take all those things that you are so desperate to call you own - your dreams, your fears, your hopes, every deceitful, pacifying half truth you tell yourself, your reputation and your friendships - every good and bad that defines you...
...and give them up.
Then you must choose to be obedient to a vision of love that is outlandish.
wild
misunderstood
presumptive
bold
undeserved
stubborn
hopeful
And you must choose it in your darkest hours, in the blindness of your selfishness, in the midnight of your despair. Again and again, over and over and with every breath...
You must choose love, and obedience.
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