Well guys (and by guys I mean both boys and girls) it is fall. You may have gotten that already, by the fact you are back in school, or the fact you find yourself wearing your coat when going outside, or by the fact everyone seems just a little bit less happy. Or maybe you, like me, are in denial. Well peoples (a much less gender specific word than "guys") it is in fact fall. In caps, and bold, just so that we make sure everyone catches it: IT IS FALL! Sorry to burst your summer bubble. Now, lower yourself back to the ground carefully—for fall is certainly not worth hurting yourself over-- and let’s get on with it.
The good news is that we have the cure for those fall blues—it's a little something that we like to call the Second Anniversary Issue of a little newsletter called Wondering Holy Youth... which you are in fact now reading, and so it should be nice and handy for you.
We would like to point out three very exciting words in the previous paragraph in case you missed them—Second Anniversary Issue— that's right folks (again, non gender specific) we are turning two years old this issue! Wow! Who would have guessed that we would make it this far? We want to say a great big thanks to all the people who have been reading W.H.Y. Your support, encouragement and feedback has helped us reach this point. Which is pretty sweet.
Speaking of pretty sweet, we were featured in the September issue of the Observer, so you should definitely check us out if you haven't already. We were interviewed and had to go to a photo shoot and everything—it’s probably the closest we’ll ever be to fame!
We would now like to share a funny story with you, which has little to do with anything. On the weekend of the photo shoot, we decided that we should hang out for a bit, as we had not seen each other in nearly a year. We went out for supper at a restaurant, and on the menu was a rather interesting item— Alligator Kabobs. Which of course we had to try. Turns out alligator is surprisingly delicious, tasting much like sausage or chicken or a number of other things we were unable to agree on. Which then lead to many alligator themed jokes, as well as the possibility of an alligator themed issue of WHY (which was quickly shot down by Charley, though still lives in Kathleen's dreams).
Anyways, I think this shall end the longest W.H.Y. intro in history. Have a great fall and enjoy this issue. Be sure to check out guest writers Nico Anderson and Cory Bentley and our guest photographers Richelle and Rick. We'll be back in December!
-Charley and Kathleen
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Living With My Brokenness
There are times when I feel like I have an emptiness inside me, a gap I just can’t seem to fill with anything. I feel lonely and empty. I can surround my self with a multitude of activities to keep myself occupied. None of them help though. Have you ever felt that way? I’m sure lots of people do. Whenever I feel like this, and nothing else seems to be working, I try praying. I must admit, it can be a great help.
Prayer helps to open you up to something that can help you even more. God’s everlasting and constant love. I don’t know about you, but I often find that I forget to pray. I just let the void, the loneliness, grow and grow until it seems to be so big that it hurts. It seems like it shall never again go away. It’s like it has made a nest inside of me, like it has made a home inside of me—constantly reminding me that it is there and that it has no intention to leave.
An unknown, yet still wise, person once said “God understands our prayers even when we can't find the words to say them.” Perhaps in these times, when we can’t find the words to pray, or forget to pray to God, maybe we don’t need to say anything. Maybe, just maybe, all we need to do is reach out to the Heavenly Father, the Heavenly Mother, and God will take us in His loving arms in a huge hug and sooth our troubled spirits.
What if that doesn’t seem to work, though? What if we can’t seem to feel that loving, tender touch? Do you often go searching for God, to ask Him to help you? Of course, some people claim to have found God in these instances. Another anonymous person once said, “Some people talk about finding God—as if He could get lost.” No, God doesn’t get lost. But we feel lost. Or at least I know that I do. As I’ve written before, I often feel like a puzzle, broken and scattered about and I just can’t seem to put myself back together again.
Amethyst Snow-Rivers remarked, “When we can't piece together the puzzle of our own lives, remember the best view of a puzzle is from above. Let Him help put you together.” Perhaps if we cannot ‘find God’, we should let God find us. We can give God a call, a cry out with our soul to God. I think that when he receives this calling cry, He’ll come to us with a box in hand. With a soft, kind and caring smile He’ll kneel next to us and say in a gentle and loving voice say, “My child, my dear child, I have heard you calling to me. And look! Do you see what I have? I have those missing puzzle pieces. I can help you to become whole once more. Do not worry…I am here and I love you so very much.”
I have just finished a week at Kairos 2008, which is an event for young adults in the United Church of Canada from across the country to get together and live in a week of worship, discernment, and community. It is a profound experience. With this group of wonderful and amazing people I have found the true meaning of what it is for God to put a single piece of the puzzle back. Even if we can’t see it right away, He answers our prayers. I’ve learned that this week. Before and on my way to Kairos, I found myself feeling very empty and much like a broken spirit.
I can never claim that I’m not still a broken spirit, I think I always will be. On my way to this event, I prayed to God and asked Him to help me feel whole and understand why I am living. And through this event, one or two things that I have suffered in my life have come to surface, as I am sure God intended. For instance, I’ve dealt with having practically no presence of my father during most of my life. I’ve never lived with him, but I have met him. He cut off all communications with me when I was at the age of about, I’ll say, six. With all these amazing people, though, I’ve discovered something. I’ve discovered that I don’t need my father. I don’t know if ever need him. Someday I may have closure, but until then, I’m happy with the extended family that I have grown into through this event and events like this.
I have felt love and acceptance here…enough to fill that void and to know I am loved, that I am good enough, no matter how inadequate I have felt because of my father’s absence; no matter how imperfect or unworthy I have felt because of it. I now know what it means to have your prayers answered. I know what it means to feel loved and accepted for who I am in all of my brokenness. All that I can do now is give the Lord thankful praise as tears stream down my face. It is the happiest I have been in the longest time.
Thank you Heavenly Father…Heavenly Mother. I may not be perfect, but with Your grace I can be perfectly happy.
Amen.
-Nico Anderson
Prayer helps to open you up to something that can help you even more. God’s everlasting and constant love. I don’t know about you, but I often find that I forget to pray. I just let the void, the loneliness, grow and grow until it seems to be so big that it hurts. It seems like it shall never again go away. It’s like it has made a nest inside of me, like it has made a home inside of me—constantly reminding me that it is there and that it has no intention to leave.
An unknown, yet still wise, person once said “God understands our prayers even when we can't find the words to say them.” Perhaps in these times, when we can’t find the words to pray, or forget to pray to God, maybe we don’t need to say anything. Maybe, just maybe, all we need to do is reach out to the Heavenly Father, the Heavenly Mother, and God will take us in His loving arms in a huge hug and sooth our troubled spirits.
What if that doesn’t seem to work, though? What if we can’t seem to feel that loving, tender touch? Do you often go searching for God, to ask Him to help you? Of course, some people claim to have found God in these instances. Another anonymous person once said, “Some people talk about finding God—as if He could get lost.” No, God doesn’t get lost. But we feel lost. Or at least I know that I do. As I’ve written before, I often feel like a puzzle, broken and scattered about and I just can’t seem to put myself back together again.
Amethyst Snow-Rivers remarked, “When we can't piece together the puzzle of our own lives, remember the best view of a puzzle is from above. Let Him help put you together.” Perhaps if we cannot ‘find God’, we should let God find us. We can give God a call, a cry out with our soul to God. I think that when he receives this calling cry, He’ll come to us with a box in hand. With a soft, kind and caring smile He’ll kneel next to us and say in a gentle and loving voice say, “My child, my dear child, I have heard you calling to me. And look! Do you see what I have? I have those missing puzzle pieces. I can help you to become whole once more. Do not worry…I am here and I love you so very much.”
I have just finished a week at Kairos 2008, which is an event for young adults in the United Church of Canada from across the country to get together and live in a week of worship, discernment, and community. It is a profound experience. With this group of wonderful and amazing people I have found the true meaning of what it is for God to put a single piece of the puzzle back. Even if we can’t see it right away, He answers our prayers. I’ve learned that this week. Before and on my way to Kairos, I found myself feeling very empty and much like a broken spirit.
I can never claim that I’m not still a broken spirit, I think I always will be. On my way to this event, I prayed to God and asked Him to help me feel whole and understand why I am living. And through this event, one or two things that I have suffered in my life have come to surface, as I am sure God intended. For instance, I’ve dealt with having practically no presence of my father during most of my life. I’ve never lived with him, but I have met him. He cut off all communications with me when I was at the age of about, I’ll say, six. With all these amazing people, though, I’ve discovered something. I’ve discovered that I don’t need my father. I don’t know if ever need him. Someday I may have closure, but until then, I’m happy with the extended family that I have grown into through this event and events like this.
I have felt love and acceptance here…enough to fill that void and to know I am loved, that I am good enough, no matter how inadequate I have felt because of my father’s absence; no matter how imperfect or unworthy I have felt because of it. I now know what it means to have your prayers answered. I know what it means to feel loved and accepted for who I am in all of my brokenness. All that I can do now is give the Lord thankful praise as tears stream down my face. It is the happiest I have been in the longest time.
Thank you Heavenly Father…Heavenly Mother. I may not be perfect, but with Your grace I can be perfectly happy.
Amen.
-Nico Anderson
Tonight I Pray
Dear God, who has created and is creating, tonight I have to pray for me. While I know I should pray for all the others, tonight I can’t. I have to pray for my own salvation. I ask that You take some of the fears from my heart. I ask that You remove some of the impossibilities from my future, the challenges of my present, and the pain from my past, and hold them with You. I ask for some of the answers I am looking for. I ask that You heal some of the pain in my heart
You are the Lord of my parents, my grandparents, and of myself. The God who has created this amazing place. You are the God who tonight I must believe in . The God who I ask to save me.
-Kathleen Kerr
A friend of mine once asked her minister how to pray. The answer? To talk as though someone was listening.
Which is immensely interesting to me. The idea that to pray is to simply talk as though there is someone out there listening. Not to worry about all the niceties, the Amen’s or the Hallelujah's. Rather, to just talk like maybe you’re speaking to a friend or maybe a stranger, but just to say all the things you need someone to hear. You can share your brokenness and pain, along with your joys and gladness as well. You would never have to be lonely.
So just speak, and see where it takes you.
-Kathleen Kerr
You are the Lord of my parents, my grandparents, and of myself. The God who has created this amazing place. You are the God who tonight I must believe in . The God who I ask to save me.
-Kathleen Kerr
A friend of mine once asked her minister how to pray. The answer? To talk as though someone was listening.
Which is immensely interesting to me. The idea that to pray is to simply talk as though there is someone out there listening. Not to worry about all the niceties, the Amen’s or the Hallelujah's. Rather, to just talk like maybe you’re speaking to a friend or maybe a stranger, but just to say all the things you need someone to hear. You can share your brokenness and pain, along with your joys and gladness as well. You would never have to be lonely.
So just speak, and see where it takes you.
-Kathleen Kerr
Things that I Have Learned
Summer is over. I am currently on a plane somewhere over Saskatchewan . I have only had an hour’s sleep in the past thirty seven hours. So I may be slightly nuts. But somewhere in me I know that as soon as this plane hits the ground, my summer will be officially over. My roommate has moved in this week while I have been in Ontario (at Kairos with Nico). I only have this weekend before school starts. And I only have this airplane ride before real life starts again. Putting my life into perspective, these are some of the things I have learned this summer:
I have learned that you can only change so much. At a certain point you have to learn to be happy with you who are and stop trying to change into the person you want to be. I have always been a firm believer that people can change, and that there is no limit on the change that a person could enact within themselves. I am realizing that this isn’t true. There is a part of me saying I am simply giving up on this ideal because I can’t do it, I can’t become who I wanted to be. But the rest of me is saying that this is a maturing into myself, into learning to like who I am now rather than who I could be.
I have learned to choose my friends wisely. I have learned that I can do better than following someone around. I have learned that I deserve someone who likes me all the time rather than when it suits them. This summer I have found the best friends in those whom I least expected too. I have made many good friends this summer. And I made a couple of bad decisions in who to hang out with. But ultimately I learned that a really good friend is the best thing you can find.
I have learned to make mistakes and to find the wisdom in them. I have learned everyone makes mistakes, everyone makes bad choices, but we need to move from them. I have learned to find the wisdom and the holy in the mistakes that I have made.
Now I must find where to go from here. I must learn to let go of my summer without forgetting these things I know now. I have to find a way to move on with my life after my plane lands. Because all I want to do is put my life on hold for a day or a week or a month, but I know I can’t do this. Life always moves forward. And I have no idea how to do this. But I have half and hour before we hit the ground and so maybe (just maybe) by then I will figure it out. -Kathleen Kerr
I have learned that you can only change so much. At a certain point you have to learn to be happy with you who are and stop trying to change into the person you want to be. I have always been a firm believer that people can change, and that there is no limit on the change that a person could enact within themselves. I am realizing that this isn’t true. There is a part of me saying I am simply giving up on this ideal because I can’t do it, I can’t become who I wanted to be. But the rest of me is saying that this is a maturing into myself, into learning to like who I am now rather than who I could be.
I have learned to choose my friends wisely. I have learned that I can do better than following someone around. I have learned that I deserve someone who likes me all the time rather than when it suits them. This summer I have found the best friends in those whom I least expected too. I have made many good friends this summer. And I made a couple of bad decisions in who to hang out with. But ultimately I learned that a really good friend is the best thing you can find.
I have learned to make mistakes and to find the wisdom in them. I have learned everyone makes mistakes, everyone makes bad choices, but we need to move from them. I have learned to find the wisdom and the holy in the mistakes that I have made.
Now I must find where to go from here. I must learn to let go of my summer without forgetting these things I know now. I have to find a way to move on with my life after my plane lands. Because all I want to do is put my life on hold for a day or a week or a month, but I know I can’t do this. Life always moves forward. And I have no idea how to do this. But I have half and hour before we hit the ground and so maybe (just maybe) by then I will figure it out. -Kathleen Kerr
Consider the Following
My topic today: what builds a church? Wood, rocks, and stain-glass windows? When we hear the word “church,” most of us think of a big shiny building featuring copious amounts of each of these and other expensive materials. Tall and grand, the wide church doors are generally expected to welcome their masses onto red carpets and into long, uncomfortable wooden pews, to be seated before a majestic organ system adorned with stain-glass windows and a cross big enough to have crucified Goliath.
Okay, let’s be realistic. Most United Churches aren’t this spiffy. So why do we still love them? What is it about a church that truly designates it as a sacred space? Going a little further, if we had to completely demolish every church and reconstruct them on a tight budget, what would we resurrect first? A question similar to this one was asked at Kairos 2008 this August, with around 80 people were lucky enough to get the week off work to attend. The results from this crowd were paradigm-shifting. Here are some of the key conclusions:
Almost nobody mentioned the building as being important.
Little or no priority was given to obtaining money.
The size of the mass was not a large concern.
In fact, the preference was on small, intimate, individual masses as opposed to one large mass. The biggest concerns were related to people: importance was placed on inclusiveness, community outreach, and open doors (or lack thereof, if you’re going with no building). Tearing down walls is better than putting them up, but what about rain and snow? While there was a lot of excitement around the idea of having outdoor services, weather issues were staved with the concept of holding services in the homes of church members. Not necessarily Bob’s place, but Sue’s one week and Wendy’s the next. The idea of having worship over a meal was introduced and hardly contested. Even the music department was opened to some new ideas—not every United churchgoer has a pipe organ in their basement. And hey, who said we had to stick with Sunday mornings? It certainly does sound like a radically different church, but could it really support a mass? Let’s consider the pros and cons.
The pros: it’s new, it’s different, it’s thinking outside the box. This revolutionary out-of-doors church is sure to raise some eyebrows, perhaps enough to attract newcomers who are afraid of enclosed shrines and large crowds. After all, squeezing between two old ladies to join a sea of unfamiliar faces in singing “retro” tunes on a Sunday morning may be a bit much for a green-horned youth looking to wet his or her spiritual feet. The secure, toned-down nature of a small group talking about God over drumsticks and Saint-Saëns symphonies (on an iPod, not an orchestra) would likely be more conducive to attracting new and more youthful members. Of course, it’s also much less expensive, and as the United Church is starting to learn: you can’t have your church and heat it, too.
The cons: it’s new, it’s different, it’s outside the box! Quite a few of us have been in the church our entire lives, and have come to truly appreciate the spiritual shelter it offers—as it is. To take that away from our veteran members now sounds awfully mean. It means the church is going to shrink very quickly over the next couple decades, but hardship is part of the cycle of the church, right? Will our perseverance in keeping the church the way it always has been traditionally not pay off in the end? The United Church has done great things as a United body, and to separate that body doesn’t sound very conducive to survival. Generally, one doesn’t separate their limbs in hopes of living longer. Unless one of those limbs has cancer...okay, so it isn’t a perfect analogy, but you get where I’m going. United we stand, divided we are conquered; conquered by sin, conquered by conflict, conquered by “I’ll just sleep in today and go next Sunday with twice the spunk.”
So there you have it. A vision of the future? A pipe dream? A generally bad idea? It’s up to you to decide.
-Cory Bentley
A Note from Cory.
Cory here. Nice to meet ya. This is my first time writing an article for WHY, but if all goes well I plan to throw in my contribution more often. So I just want to specify one thing: I’m not writing opinion pieces, my only intention is to bring up interesting or controversial subjects. You know, just to get you thinking (though I’m sure you do plenty of that already). I’ll be writing in a fashion as non-biased as possible, and in an effort to equally present both sides of any issue. The objective: you (yes you, in front of the computer) get to think it out, make an opinion, and debate it with other WHY readers or fellow church-going theologians. Sound good? I hope so, ‘cause if it doesn’t then you won’t like my articles very much. :P
Okay, let’s be realistic. Most United Churches aren’t this spiffy. So why do we still love them? What is it about a church that truly designates it as a sacred space? Going a little further, if we had to completely demolish every church and reconstruct them on a tight budget, what would we resurrect first? A question similar to this one was asked at Kairos 2008 this August, with around 80 people were lucky enough to get the week off work to attend. The results from this crowd were paradigm-shifting. Here are some of the key conclusions:
Almost nobody mentioned the building as being important.
Little or no priority was given to obtaining money.
The size of the mass was not a large concern.
In fact, the preference was on small, intimate, individual masses as opposed to one large mass. The biggest concerns were related to people: importance was placed on inclusiveness, community outreach, and open doors (or lack thereof, if you’re going with no building). Tearing down walls is better than putting them up, but what about rain and snow? While there was a lot of excitement around the idea of having outdoor services, weather issues were staved with the concept of holding services in the homes of church members. Not necessarily Bob’s place, but Sue’s one week and Wendy’s the next. The idea of having worship over a meal was introduced and hardly contested. Even the music department was opened to some new ideas—not every United churchgoer has a pipe organ in their basement. And hey, who said we had to stick with Sunday mornings? It certainly does sound like a radically different church, but could it really support a mass? Let’s consider the pros and cons.
The pros: it’s new, it’s different, it’s thinking outside the box. This revolutionary out-of-doors church is sure to raise some eyebrows, perhaps enough to attract newcomers who are afraid of enclosed shrines and large crowds. After all, squeezing between two old ladies to join a sea of unfamiliar faces in singing “retro” tunes on a Sunday morning may be a bit much for a green-horned youth looking to wet his or her spiritual feet. The secure, toned-down nature of a small group talking about God over drumsticks and Saint-Saëns symphonies (on an iPod, not an orchestra) would likely be more conducive to attracting new and more youthful members. Of course, it’s also much less expensive, and as the United Church is starting to learn: you can’t have your church and heat it, too.
The cons: it’s new, it’s different, it’s outside the box! Quite a few of us have been in the church our entire lives, and have come to truly appreciate the spiritual shelter it offers—as it is. To take that away from our veteran members now sounds awfully mean. It means the church is going to shrink very quickly over the next couple decades, but hardship is part of the cycle of the church, right? Will our perseverance in keeping the church the way it always has been traditionally not pay off in the end? The United Church has done great things as a United body, and to separate that body doesn’t sound very conducive to survival. Generally, one doesn’t separate their limbs in hopes of living longer. Unless one of those limbs has cancer...okay, so it isn’t a perfect analogy, but you get where I’m going. United we stand, divided we are conquered; conquered by sin, conquered by conflict, conquered by “I’ll just sleep in today and go next Sunday with twice the spunk.”
So there you have it. A vision of the future? A pipe dream? A generally bad idea? It’s up to you to decide.
-Cory Bentley
A Note from Cory.
Cory here. Nice to meet ya. This is my first time writing an article for WHY, but if all goes well I plan to throw in my contribution more often. So I just want to specify one thing: I’m not writing opinion pieces, my only intention is to bring up interesting or controversial subjects. You know, just to get you thinking (though I’m sure you do plenty of that already). I’ll be writing in a fashion as non-biased as possible, and in an effort to equally present both sides of any issue. The objective: you (yes you, in front of the computer) get to think it out, make an opinion, and debate it with other WHY readers or fellow church-going theologians. Sound good? I hope so, ‘cause if it doesn’t then you won’t like my articles very much. :P
My Gift
My name is Nico Anderson. I have a gift. Although it is one that people appreciate in others, it is also one that meets criticism, in both direct and indirect ways. That gift is listening. Listening with both heart and mind.
This gift means, for me anyway, that I am more silent than others. Often times I spend more time listening to people rather than actually participating in conversations myself.
People often tell me that I should speak up more; they ask me to tell them what I think about various topics. I don’t always have an answer for them. Don’t get me wrong, I do talk, just not a lot. I’m doing what I do best. Listening. And not only do I listen with my mind but also with my heart. Listening with my heart, I believe, is the most important kind of listening that I can do, even in the midst of criticism.
People just don’t seem to feel comfortable with someone who is quiet. Either that or they don’t understand why I am quiet, and sometimes I feel as if people can’t understand why.
Despite being misunderstood at times, I have honoured and nurtured my gift of listening and I have learned more in listening than I would ever have done in speaking. I have heard people’s stories. I have shared in people’s lives by listening. I have learned more about the cruel realities and the wonderfully joyous celebrations that take place in everyday life.
Because of my listening I understand that, in the words of the song “Come a Long Way”, by Tons Of Fun University, “Everything beautiful about this world is right now”.
I look for the beauty in everything that I listen to. And in that beauty, I see and hear love – love that isn’t always perfect, and is often broken. And in that brokenness comes something greater…that I believe is the truest kind of love – the love of God.
Through our toughest times, our least perfect and most broken times, God shows us love, and embraces us with it. God whispers to us of how we are perfect in our brokenness, of how, no matter what, God will always love and embrace… us.
My gift is listening and I hold to the spiritual truth that God gave me this gift and with it I shall continue to listen to the beauties of life. I will continue to learn about others and experience the cruel and joyous realities of life. In listening I will share in people’s lives and meet God in those people. I shall do this despite any criticism, and I shall try my best to use this gift to its fullest.
I am Nico Anderson, and I thank you for listening – to me.
-Nico Anderson
This gift means, for me anyway, that I am more silent than others. Often times I spend more time listening to people rather than actually participating in conversations myself.
People often tell me that I should speak up more; they ask me to tell them what I think about various topics. I don’t always have an answer for them. Don’t get me wrong, I do talk, just not a lot. I’m doing what I do best. Listening. And not only do I listen with my mind but also with my heart. Listening with my heart, I believe, is the most important kind of listening that I can do, even in the midst of criticism.
People just don’t seem to feel comfortable with someone who is quiet. Either that or they don’t understand why I am quiet, and sometimes I feel as if people can’t understand why.
Despite being misunderstood at times, I have honoured and nurtured my gift of listening and I have learned more in listening than I would ever have done in speaking. I have heard people’s stories. I have shared in people’s lives by listening. I have learned more about the cruel realities and the wonderfully joyous celebrations that take place in everyday life.
Because of my listening I understand that, in the words of the song “Come a Long Way”, by Tons Of Fun University, “Everything beautiful about this world is right now”.
I look for the beauty in everything that I listen to. And in that beauty, I see and hear love – love that isn’t always perfect, and is often broken. And in that brokenness comes something greater…that I believe is the truest kind of love – the love of God.
Through our toughest times, our least perfect and most broken times, God shows us love, and embraces us with it. God whispers to us of how we are perfect in our brokenness, of how, no matter what, God will always love and embrace… us.
My gift is listening and I hold to the spiritual truth that God gave me this gift and with it I shall continue to listen to the beauties of life. I will continue to learn about others and experience the cruel and joyous realities of life. In listening I will share in people’s lives and meet God in those people. I shall do this despite any criticism, and I shall try my best to use this gift to its fullest.
I am Nico Anderson, and I thank you for listening – to me.
-Nico Anderson
Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (Perfect Moments)
It’s the moments
When the sun finally shines
It’s those moments
As the darkness brightens
That make everything OK
So today I’ll get up again
Face this darkness that just won’t fade
Find a way to get through this
And know tomorrow I’ll do the same.
So because this is how I live
Because sometimes this is all I know
I wait for that perfect moment,
And I make it through this day.
So now I lay me down to sleep
I’ll pray to God with all I am
That tomorrow the sun will shine,
And I pray to God my soul to keep.
So if I die before I wake
Or if I wake up in the dark
Those perfect moments have to come
Tomorrow can’t be worse.
I’m living for that moment
When the sun must finally shine
I’m waiting for that perfect moment
When the darkness must finally fade.
And I’m hoping it makes everything OK.
-Kathleen Kerr
When the sun finally shines
It’s those moments
As the darkness brightens
That make everything OK
So today I’ll get up again
Face this darkness that just won’t fade
Find a way to get through this
And know tomorrow I’ll do the same.
So because this is how I live
Because sometimes this is all I know
I wait for that perfect moment,
And I make it through this day.
So now I lay me down to sleep
I’ll pray to God with all I am
That tomorrow the sun will shine,
And I pray to God my soul to keep.
So if I die before I wake
Or if I wake up in the dark
Those perfect moments have to come
Tomorrow can’t be worse.
I’m living for that moment
When the sun must finally shine
I’m waiting for that perfect moment
When the darkness must finally fade.
And I’m hoping it makes everything OK.
-Kathleen Kerr
Happy Summer to You
Its summer peoples! I know that you are all excited for a summer full of relaxing summer days. I know that I am. Summer is my favorite season. No school, no snow, no worries. My favorite part is the no worries. Summer is a time that almost seems as a pause to the hustle and bustle real life. A chance to simply relax and enjoy life. To take long holidays, or short trips just to get away. Basically, it’s a chance to live simply for the day.
This issue isn’t about anything. It doesn’t have a theme, no underlying thread. Its just a bunch of people writing what is on their heart’s. Because that’s what summer is about. No themes, no big pictures, no anything. Summer is our one chance to forget all the everythings in our lives and to renew our spirits to start fighting our battles again in the fall.
So we hope that you enjoy this issue. We enjoy making it, and it is double fun when people like reading it. It makes it triple (or maybe more) fun when people email us with feedback about our newsletter, so send us an email (our email address is wonderingholyyouth@gmail.com). As you’re amazing comments arrive, we’ll be having a party here on the other end. We want to point out our two superfantabulous guest writers, Jesse Root and Magdalena Jennings, and give them a monster thank you for doing this, and we want you all to give them a little thanks too.
Have a great summer, and we’ll be back with our 2nd anniversary issue in September 2008!
This issue isn’t about anything. It doesn’t have a theme, no underlying thread. Its just a bunch of people writing what is on their heart’s. Because that’s what summer is about. No themes, no big pictures, no anything. Summer is our one chance to forget all the everythings in our lives and to renew our spirits to start fighting our battles again in the fall.
So we hope that you enjoy this issue. We enjoy making it, and it is double fun when people like reading it. It makes it triple (or maybe more) fun when people email us with feedback about our newsletter, so send us an email (our email address is wonderingholyyouth@gmail.com). As you’re amazing comments arrive, we’ll be having a party here on the other end. We want to point out our two superfantabulous guest writers, Jesse Root and Magdalena Jennings, and give them a monster thank you for doing this, and we want you all to give them a little thanks too.
Have a great summer, and we’ll be back with our 2nd anniversary issue in September 2008!
Vison Quest at Future Quest
We clutch our journals, our water bottles, and our pens: fifteen youth sent to find a place in the woods to sit and ponder. I find a small rock under a tree in the middle of a clearing from which I can see the lake and hear the loons.
This is the first part of our Vision Quest, on the Future Quest 2007 camping trip. I am supposed to write about what makes me happy, to help me try to find my passion. As I begin my list I notice more and more how often nature is mentioned. Later those who are comfortable unofficially compare lists and on everyone’s nature appears as the thing that makes us happiest. Even those of us who live in cities can become close to nature out here and together we acknowledge an almost primeval love for the earth. At my feet a cricket begins to chirp. He falls silent when I move and so I keep still, and write a poem about him. I ponder the difference in size of our worlds, which are essentially the same one, and I wonder, as I sit here, knowing so much more, if the cricket's world is the better one. And I wonder how much more there is to my world which I don't know.
At night the members of my campsite sing camp songs and roast marshmallows. We tell stories or discuss the latest computer games and have tooth-brushing parties, spitting into a little hole in the ground. Mornings are spent just talking, perhaps about the previous night's sleep or about animal sightings. We make a fire and soon clutch cups of tea in our hands, shivering a bit in the crisp forest air. One morning we make up spiritual names for each other, matching animals or plants and specific traits to people's characters. This is done with laughter and much joking but the memory stays with me. My name is still special and meaningful to me.
Later on, we wander up to the next lake to Vision Quest once more. It is a smaller group this time, and we nestle into the grass on the steep bank of this lake to study individual objects around us. I etch every branch and curve in the tree above my head into my memory. I shut my eyes and use my other senses to try to heighten awareness. Suddenly I can feel the activity beneath me in the ground. The sap runs through the roots of the trees, and I can feel a steady rhythm in the burrowing of the worms and the beat of the warm sun and the shivering of the tree. This new attentiveness comes quickly, and with joy I open my eyes to record this moment in my journal. I look around and watch my friends with their eyes closed and suddenly I realize how much of life is not about only us. Yet an utter peace rests on us and calm emanates from us as well. When our leader begins a prayer I can fully and truly appreciate wonder and awe in God, in nature, in the people around me, and in myself.
Future Quest is an experience I will never forget. It has engraved itself in my memory, like the tree and like the cricket. It has caused me to look within myself to accept the world around me. It has brought me closer to my dreams and to an acceptance, if not an understanding, of how God works in little miracles around us every day.
A collective gasp emerges from my group in the middle of our prayer. There, floating not twenty metres off shore, is a beautiful and majestic loon. Thank you, God.
-Magdalena Jennings
This is the first part of our Vision Quest, on the Future Quest 2007 camping trip. I am supposed to write about what makes me happy, to help me try to find my passion. As I begin my list I notice more and more how often nature is mentioned. Later those who are comfortable unofficially compare lists and on everyone’s nature appears as the thing that makes us happiest. Even those of us who live in cities can become close to nature out here and together we acknowledge an almost primeval love for the earth. At my feet a cricket begins to chirp. He falls silent when I move and so I keep still, and write a poem about him. I ponder the difference in size of our worlds, which are essentially the same one, and I wonder, as I sit here, knowing so much more, if the cricket's world is the better one. And I wonder how much more there is to my world which I don't know.
At night the members of my campsite sing camp songs and roast marshmallows. We tell stories or discuss the latest computer games and have tooth-brushing parties, spitting into a little hole in the ground. Mornings are spent just talking, perhaps about the previous night's sleep or about animal sightings. We make a fire and soon clutch cups of tea in our hands, shivering a bit in the crisp forest air. One morning we make up spiritual names for each other, matching animals or plants and specific traits to people's characters. This is done with laughter and much joking but the memory stays with me. My name is still special and meaningful to me.
Later on, we wander up to the next lake to Vision Quest once more. It is a smaller group this time, and we nestle into the grass on the steep bank of this lake to study individual objects around us. I etch every branch and curve in the tree above my head into my memory. I shut my eyes and use my other senses to try to heighten awareness. Suddenly I can feel the activity beneath me in the ground. The sap runs through the roots of the trees, and I can feel a steady rhythm in the burrowing of the worms and the beat of the warm sun and the shivering of the tree. This new attentiveness comes quickly, and with joy I open my eyes to record this moment in my journal. I look around and watch my friends with their eyes closed and suddenly I realize how much of life is not about only us. Yet an utter peace rests on us and calm emanates from us as well. When our leader begins a prayer I can fully and truly appreciate wonder and awe in God, in nature, in the people around me, and in myself.
Future Quest is an experience I will never forget. It has engraved itself in my memory, like the tree and like the cricket. It has caused me to look within myself to accept the world around me. It has brought me closer to my dreams and to an acceptance, if not an understanding, of how God works in little miracles around us every day.
A collective gasp emerges from my group in the middle of our prayer. There, floating not twenty metres off shore, is a beautiful and majestic loon. Thank you, God.
-Magdalena Jennings
God Is Good?
I often wonder why we believe in a God. We live in this world where people want proof of everything. If someone is convicted of a crime, definite proof, reason beyond doubt is required to convict. Society values science and technology, and our lives revolve around these two entities. Everything in our society is based on absolute fact. But yet, here we are, believing in a God of whom we have no proof of actually existing. I mean, according to the legends of our religion, he talked to a bunch of guys thousands of years ago, and in the intervening time between then and now people have whole heartedly believed in this idea, and fought wars and lived lives all based on something of which there is no proof.
So why do we believe in God?
We worship this God, this indefinable, impossible, indescribable being. A phenomenon who has been the cause of more deaths and more wars and more terrors then any other being. A God who makes even the most horrible humans look genuinely nice. We are part of a religion that claims to value humility and kindness and goodness, with a God who wiped out entire civilizations, who demanded we worship him and no one or nothing else, a God who is not always good. But yet we believe in him, in our idealized pictures of flowers and rainbows, a grandfather with a white beard, the one who can forgive all sins. And no one dares to say that God may have sinned too.
And so not only do I wonder why we believe in our God, but I wonder why we worship him.
Maybe it is this underlying darkness, our subconscious knowledge that we worship an imperfect God, that allows us to believe in something so impossible. I know that I am not perfect, and it is good to know that something somewhat imperfect is supposed to be in charge. This way incidents like genocide and hunger and earthquakes can be accepted. While everyone all says that God is in fact perfect and that He Has A Plan, maybe its that little itty bitty tiny bit of me that refuses to worship anything that could have purposefully done these things. And that itty little bit is able to be placated by the thought it was a mistake.
Maybe I worship my God because I want to boost His self confidence, so that maybe in the future he won’t screw up again.
Which may answer why I worship God. But not why I believe he exists in the first place.
Maybe it is a need to blame the world’s problems on someone besides myself. Its God’s fault people are starving, and so God can go ahead and fix Her own problems. Maybe I believe in God because it gives meaning to our lives, because I have to believe that there is something more to life than what is obvious. Maybe it is a need for God to fix our brokenness, maybe we need to know that something is out there to help us through our brokenness.
Which also means that God must be good. Because if he is going to fix my brokenness, he had better be good.
Of course, I truly believe that God is in fact good. I believe in a God who is closer to perfect than any of us ever have hopes to be. I believe in the God of my Grandparents and my Great Grandparents. A God who is loving and caring and wonderful.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t wonder why I believe in him. Why I choose to worship him despite all the things I have seen through human history. Why I worship him with every breath and every song and every step.
Because I believe that God is good.
-Kathleen Kerr
So why do we believe in God?
We worship this God, this indefinable, impossible, indescribable being. A phenomenon who has been the cause of more deaths and more wars and more terrors then any other being. A God who makes even the most horrible humans look genuinely nice. We are part of a religion that claims to value humility and kindness and goodness, with a God who wiped out entire civilizations, who demanded we worship him and no one or nothing else, a God who is not always good. But yet we believe in him, in our idealized pictures of flowers and rainbows, a grandfather with a white beard, the one who can forgive all sins. And no one dares to say that God may have sinned too.
And so not only do I wonder why we believe in our God, but I wonder why we worship him.
Maybe it is this underlying darkness, our subconscious knowledge that we worship an imperfect God, that allows us to believe in something so impossible. I know that I am not perfect, and it is good to know that something somewhat imperfect is supposed to be in charge. This way incidents like genocide and hunger and earthquakes can be accepted. While everyone all says that God is in fact perfect and that He Has A Plan, maybe its that little itty bitty tiny bit of me that refuses to worship anything that could have purposefully done these things. And that itty little bit is able to be placated by the thought it was a mistake.
Maybe I worship my God because I want to boost His self confidence, so that maybe in the future he won’t screw up again.
Which may answer why I worship God. But not why I believe he exists in the first place.
Maybe it is a need to blame the world’s problems on someone besides myself. Its God’s fault people are starving, and so God can go ahead and fix Her own problems. Maybe I believe in God because it gives meaning to our lives, because I have to believe that there is something more to life than what is obvious. Maybe it is a need for God to fix our brokenness, maybe we need to know that something is out there to help us through our brokenness.
Which also means that God must be good. Because if he is going to fix my brokenness, he had better be good.
Of course, I truly believe that God is in fact good. I believe in a God who is closer to perfect than any of us ever have hopes to be. I believe in the God of my Grandparents and my Great Grandparents. A God who is loving and caring and wonderful.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t wonder why I believe in him. Why I choose to worship him despite all the things I have seen through human history. Why I worship him with every breath and every song and every step.
Because I believe that God is good.
-Kathleen Kerr
Lean on Me: Lessons in Vulnerability
Vulnerability. when you hear this word what comes to mind? Is it weakness, struggling, strength, success? I would venture to say that along with myself before I really experienced vulnerability, most of you thought of the negative connotations this word carries. Vulnerability as weakness, vulnerability as something that is a marker of an unsuccessful or very negative experience. I am currently on a 10 month long journey in France, in which I am an aupair, living about ten minutes by train from Paris. This essentially means that I experience the French culture, while working for a French family who pays room and board and a small salary.
Since I have been here, my eyes have been opened to the concept of vulnerability and forced me question what it is. I have seen vulnerability in many forms; in my own life, in the homeless, busking population of Paris, and in society in general. The song “Lean on Me” immediately came to mind when I was thinking about how I would present these thoughts. I think that this very secular song has a great deal of information for us as Christians. It preaches a message that vulnerability is not a problem, but more importantly that we all have moments of vulnerability in our lives, no matter how blessed we are.
As Christians, our role model to lead a Christian lifestyle, Jesus Christ provides (among other things) a specifically powerful lesson when it comes to vulnerability. Jesus voluntarily entered into life. Ultimately he died because he knew nothing else but to be passionately vulnerable to the plan that God had for him. In terms of relating this to my experience I will start with how I have been vulnerable. I have moved away from family, friends, a girlfriend and everything that I knew and loved, because I felt called. Truthfully, there are thousands of reasons why I would have stayed at home, but I went. I am still vulnerable but I have learned many important life lessons along the way. I will be moving out of the family’s home in the next couple of weeks, and into my own apartment, (hard enough in a country that I am familiar with), and for the first time in my life I will be living alone. My relationship with God is what I have to rely on, and I need to be vulnerable to the lessons I am learning in order to succeed in this new, and sometimes scary environment.
Secondly, I have learned so much more to respect the homeless, and busking population that I have really never been confronted with before. I come from a small village of 1000 people, where everyone knows everyone and I have lived there my entire life. All of a sudden I am in a city of three million where my mother tongue is not the language spoken. I have to rely on public transportation, and I experience first hand the big city life, including homelessness, busking, and other big city characteristics. Homeless people and people who display their musical gifts, or dress up in funny costumes, show me an unbelievable level of vulnerability.
They have given up whatever pride they may have had and rely on others often to just survive. The Parisian people, in general are very unresponsive to this incredible sacrifice, and walk by without a second glance.
If we really reflect on the words of the chorus of “Lean on Me” I think that we can learn a lot and implement it into how we live our lives as Christians. First of all I think it is admitting that yes, we do all have times in our lives where we have pain, and sorrow, and it is okay to not be “strong” all the time. Secondly, it is having that person in your life, or people, or God, or all of the above, to help you in your need. And finally, in return, being there for those people when they need you most of all. This way people get along, and response to the question of vulnerability is not: “I can't believe that, that busker is so stupid to give up all his pride to make a couple dollars on the metro,” but becomes “Wow! He/she is completely submitting to the hand that they have been dealt in life, and have the courage to do everything that they can do to live life to the fullest.” This is the mentality that we are called to have as Christians, and it is the mentality that will change the world for the better. Hindrance? Blessing? You tell me.
-Jesse Root
Since I have been here, my eyes have been opened to the concept of vulnerability and forced me question what it is. I have seen vulnerability in many forms; in my own life, in the homeless, busking population of Paris, and in society in general. The song “Lean on Me” immediately came to mind when I was thinking about how I would present these thoughts. I think that this very secular song has a great deal of information for us as Christians. It preaches a message that vulnerability is not a problem, but more importantly that we all have moments of vulnerability in our lives, no matter how blessed we are.
As Christians, our role model to lead a Christian lifestyle, Jesus Christ provides (among other things) a specifically powerful lesson when it comes to vulnerability. Jesus voluntarily entered into life. Ultimately he died because he knew nothing else but to be passionately vulnerable to the plan that God had for him. In terms of relating this to my experience I will start with how I have been vulnerable. I have moved away from family, friends, a girlfriend and everything that I knew and loved, because I felt called. Truthfully, there are thousands of reasons why I would have stayed at home, but I went. I am still vulnerable but I have learned many important life lessons along the way. I will be moving out of the family’s home in the next couple of weeks, and into my own apartment, (hard enough in a country that I am familiar with), and for the first time in my life I will be living alone. My relationship with God is what I have to rely on, and I need to be vulnerable to the lessons I am learning in order to succeed in this new, and sometimes scary environment.
Secondly, I have learned so much more to respect the homeless, and busking population that I have really never been confronted with before. I come from a small village of 1000 people, where everyone knows everyone and I have lived there my entire life. All of a sudden I am in a city of three million where my mother tongue is not the language spoken. I have to rely on public transportation, and I experience first hand the big city life, including homelessness, busking, and other big city characteristics. Homeless people and people who display their musical gifts, or dress up in funny costumes, show me an unbelievable level of vulnerability.
They have given up whatever pride they may have had and rely on others often to just survive. The Parisian people, in general are very unresponsive to this incredible sacrifice, and walk by without a second glance.
If we really reflect on the words of the chorus of “Lean on Me” I think that we can learn a lot and implement it into how we live our lives as Christians. First of all I think it is admitting that yes, we do all have times in our lives where we have pain, and sorrow, and it is okay to not be “strong” all the time. Secondly, it is having that person in your life, or people, or God, or all of the above, to help you in your need. And finally, in return, being there for those people when they need you most of all. This way people get along, and response to the question of vulnerability is not: “I can't believe that, that busker is so stupid to give up all his pride to make a couple dollars on the metro,” but becomes “Wow! He/she is completely submitting to the hand that they have been dealt in life, and have the courage to do everything that they can do to live life to the fullest.” This is the mentality that we are called to have as Christians, and it is the mentality that will change the world for the better. Hindrance? Blessing? You tell me.
-Jesse Root
Questions from Eden
Recently I have been doing a lot of thinking about Eden, and what exactly the repercussions of Eden have been on humans since that time. While I have come up with no answers, many questions have arisen. Ponder this...
If God is all knowing why did he have do ask “Where are you?” of Adam and Eve?
Was God just being polite? Did She ask this (Where are You?) because She knew what was coming?
Was God so angry after the Eden incident that it caused Him to become the vengeful God of the old Testament? And if this is true, why do we continue loving God?
What made Eden so special? What made it perfect? Was it the closeness to God or the pretty trees or something all together different?
Does all of our human knowledge of God come from the events of Eden?
After Eden, did God become so separate from us that finding Him again becomes difficult?
Would I have eaten the apple?
Did Eve’s biting the apple separate humanity from God so much that he is not all knowing of us?
Maybe it is the memory of Eden that has created a need for religion. Or maybe we just want to believe that there is something better if we were only better, and thus created the story of Eden.
The basis of all human kind in the Christian traditions said to be coming from what happened in Eden. And maybe this is why humans can never be perfect.
-Kathleen Kerr
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